Patience needed

The sign said, “closing at 5:00-ish.” I thought, how can you do that, leave the closing so in question? Then I wondered when they open “whenever anyone can get in—10:00 at the latest.” That spurred further thinking, so what do you do as a shopper? Plan to wait, go with the flow? Call first? Stay home and wing it?

Given the conditions that the public has insisted upon some days you would be lucky to find any business open let alone one with enough staff. Pressure to conform has not resulted in the planned outcome. All sides of this loose.

Hotels are understaffed like everywhere else. So do you do what you can when you stay at a hotel, pick up after yourself, flush, garbage in cans, beds are for people not dogs or food, renting means the right to use not abuse. And can we practice manners, please, thank you, respect for ourselves and for others?

Went to dinner last night. We timed it just right. Had a lovely meal, great wait staff with a smile and how can I help you? By the time we left the waiting line had grown and grown. You could see the patience running thin. A pleasant man talked to his party and reminded them of what obstacles we all face, patience being the top of the list, most desirable but hard to come by. I hope all of those “in line” were as kind and considerate and understanding of what we all face now.

Here’s where I am going with this. Ask yourself why you come here. You are at the end of the road and so are we. We can’t go into the backroom and pull out exactly what you want; we have to go out of town too, 250 miles round trip. We are what you are. We like quiet with music and food and special weekends once in a while. Four-day weekends of this every week wears out the best of us. There is no down time to rejuvenate. A day off here and there doesn’t count.

As a longtime resident, I’d like to have someplace to go where people are kind of happy to see you. That means treating people like you care and the places you visit and stay like they are important, like home.

The locals are here to enjoy what is here. We don’t want or expect more, this is our home.

The day we aren’t happy we will take all of our marbles and more—maybe to Montana.

Arvis Thompson, Grand Marais.