Life In The Confession Line

1. The Terpsichorean: can't sit still in the pew; shifts from being seated to kneeling to standing every couple of minutes.
2. The Artful Dozer: half-asleep, leans against the wall or a neighbour; needs an occasional  'psst' to prompt him along.
3. Mr. Fidget: weak bladder.
4. The Chatterbox: attempts to engage others in small talk. You can almost bet she's gonna confess to gossipping.
5. The Judge: whose penetrating gaze could cause a saint to wilt with guilt.
6. The Timekeeper (aka The Tracker): her eyes are constantly on her watch timing each penitent in the box. Probably worked the clock during high school basketball games.
7. The Narrator: rehearses his examination of conscience out loud.
8. Mr. Scruples: you can practically see the sweat draining off his forehead.
9. The Devotionalist: rigorously works the rosary beads, and whose whispering of prayers is almost as annoying as an ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response) video of someone slurping hot soup.
10. The Revert: hasn't been to confession in a decade and needs reassurance that the priest isn't hard of hearing and won't shout back his sins.
11. The Page Flipperer: Who knew a penance book or devotional booklet could sound like a deck of cards being shuffled?
12. The Leap Frogger: aka, the Queue Jumper; elicits looks of strong disapproval from others.
13. The Saint: the curtains are drawn (veil), the head is bowed, hands are held palms together at the breast, and she is wearing more sacramentals than you can count. You had better hope that she isn't ahead of you because anything you say will be fifty times worse than anything that she confesses.
14. The Phonerer: is constantly on her phone, on social media, takes selfies while waiting, and is constantly primping herself (...to what end is anyone's guess... and, frankly, who cares?).
15. The Pilgrim: waits in line on his knees, and shuffles along... on his knees (see #13).