Tag: lines

There is a lot to hate about lines. You stand in line for tickets, food, and to get into events. Sometimes, you stand in line, and it goes around the block. Line jumpers can get more than dirty looks. At one school I attended in New York City, a kid who habitually cut in lines had a serious altercation after school that left him walking strangely for a few days. He was careful to always take his turn afterward.

In the bad old days of teachers being allowed to use rulers, yardsticks, and such on kids, line jumpers could also get it from the teacher. But in one school I attended, teachers were instructed not to. As the students said, paybacks were a bitch, and they meant it. I was not sorry in the least when we moved. I got to go to a brand new school where the inmates did not run the institution.

So despite not liking lines, I’ve made my piece with them. I’ll decide not to go to a a show where I have to stand in line too long, avoid the restaurant with lines, and use the checkout machine to avoid standing in line behind the lady with two full carts.

But there is one nice thing about standing in line. You get to meet some really nice people standing there. I’ve had conversations over the blueberries in our carts, talks about how rude people are pushing their carts into others, and many other topics. It’s not a bad way to turn an otherwise boring wait into a social moment.

A friend in undergrad would wait to get into line so he’d be behind a pretty girl. He’d engage her in conversation and try to get a date. He structured his pick up technique to what he saw in the cart. Baby food was a wave off, as were diapers. Pet food opened up an opportunity to talk about how picky the darlings were. He did not have a cat or a dog but knew that people loved talking about their pets. Talking about his imaginary pet established him in their eyes as a responsible individual, not some creep looking to make a pickup.

I tried this technique once or twice, but it only worked once. She didn’t have a cat, she was looking to pick up guys by talking to them about her imaginary cat. When she kept on using different names I figured there was something weird going down.

If I have to stand in line for any length of time, I start analyzing the people standing in line in front of me. That guy who keeps on sniffing – crackhead. The old lady who mutters to herself -dementia. I don’t really think that’s what they are, but it passes the time.

After all when you stand in line that’s all you have is time.