Hot Josh and the “Quick Errand” Illusion

I left the house at 2:10 p.m.

The plan was simple. One stop. In and out. Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty if something unexpected happened.

Nothing unexpected was going to happen.

I had already decided that.

At 31, I’ve learned that most delays come from hesitation. Indecision. People overthinking simple tasks. That’s not how I operate.

I operate efficiently.

I pulled into the parking lot at 2:17.

Packed.

Unnecessarily packed.

There were at least four rows of open spaces… if you were willing to walk like a normal person. I was not.

I circled once. Twice.

On the third pass, I saw it. A spot near the front. Someone loading groceries into their car. This was a situation that required patience.

So I waited.

Turn signal on. Position established. Presence known.

They moved slowly. Too slowly. Placing one bag at a time like this was a ceremonial process instead of a basic task.

At one point, they stopped entirely and checked their phone.

Unacceptable.

But I held my ground.

Because once you commit to a spot, you don’t abandon it. That’s weakness.

At 2:26, they finally left.

Victory.

I parked, stepped out, and walked inside like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t just invested nine minutes securing proximity.

Inside, it was worse.

A line.

Not a long line. Just long enough to be irritating.

I assessed the situation. Three people ahead of me. One cashier. Another employee nearby doing something that was clearly not cashiering.

I stepped into line.

This was temporary.

Two minutes, maybe three.

The first person took forever. Asking questions. Making decisions. Changing those decisions.

The second person had a return.

A return.

At a place that clearly discourages returns.

The third person paid in cash. Exact change. Or at least attempted exact change. There was a counting process involved that felt unnecessary in a modern economy.

By the time it was my turn, I had mentally re-evaluated my entire schedule.

I completed my purchase in under 30 seconds.

Efficient.

Professional.

Exactly how it should be done.

I walked out, got back in my car, and checked the time.

2:41.

Thirty-one minutes.

For a fifteen-minute errand.

That’s when it hit me.

There is no such thing as a quick errand.

There is only the illusion of control.

Lesson learned: You can plan for speed, efficiency, and precision, but the world operates on its own timeline.

And sometimes, that timeline includes someone checking their phone while holding your parking spot hostage.

Which I handled better than most people would.