“I hate the waiting room. Because it’s called the waiting room, there’s no chance of not waiting. It’s built, designed, and intended for waiting. Why would they take you right away when they’ve got this room all set up?”
Jerry Seinfeld
What does the seat you select in an empty waiting room say about you? I wonder, as I settle into my usual spot and wait for my therapist to materialize from his office down the hall.
The walls of the waiting room are exposed brick, with pipes running across the ceiling overhead and spot lights to highlight the waiting room art. The room is a small square with a diminutive arm chair placed in each corner (as if by a Friendly Giant) and a side table spread with a collection of magazines. Something about the combination of exposed brick, spot lighting and diminutive furniture makes me feel like I’m in a living room in some sort of play. The idea of which amuses me and feels weirdly apropos.
It’s the square shape of the room that makes me uncertain of wether I’ve chosen the first seat in the room or the last. How am I to compare my seat selection to the famous bathroom stall study? But just in case you’ve never heard of it, the basic gist of the bathroom stall study was that people who choose the first or last stalls in a bathroom are considered “risk taking”.
Which seems questionable, since I myself prefer the first stall and am decidedly risk averse. At the very least, the first stall is apparently the cleanest stall in a women’s washroom. Ultimately, I suppose I prefer whichever stall is currently available and relatively clean. But still. How did they make that deduction about the first and last stalls? It seems unlikely to have been a controlled experiment. (Ok, please take this personality test. Ok, now allow me to follow you to the washroom).
I’m guessing it’s just real world observation of stall selection followed by asking the subject to self report on their personality and risk taking propensities. But did the authors properly control for variables (i.e. unflushed turds) that could skew the results? Could the choice of the first stall simply be a matter of convenience (less distance to walk)? Not to mention the flaws of self reporting one’s own personality.
But back to the waiting room. I think it’s reasonable to say that the “first” seat is probably the one closest to the door (the first seat you’d reach when entering). In which case I’m in “first” place as I wait for my appointment. Risk taking and ready to go. Or possibly just efficient?
It’s not long before my therapist emerges from the back and invites me into his office. I follow him in, removing my coat. As I make myself comfortable on the couch, I can’t resist asking: “Do you think the seat you choose in an empty waiting room says something about your personality?”
He smiles and replies: “I don’t know. But I think the thing that says the most about my personality is probably my plants”. As I look around his office at the many plants that line the window I can’t help but notice an inordinate number of succulents represented. What does that say about him?
But that’s a study for another day.