I used to get super pissed off at people who cut in lines. I would seriously fume and get completely Jeanne Bueller about why the hell they should get to cut when the rest of us have to stand in line. But I never said anything. And I don’t really remember anyone else ever really saying much either. So, I would be there all tense and stressed out because of something someone else was doing that had nothing to do with me personally, and generally had a fairly minimal impact on my personal circumstances. There is actually a whole science behind the waiting in line issues. [A lot like the time/money stuff or our basic opportunity cost analysis… or simply, like T says, “I don’t do lines.”]
In a bizarre turn of events, I have recently found I am She Who Will Cut in Line. The thing is, for the last few months I have rarely found myself in a hurry so I have been that person who is totally chillaxed in line and even let people who look angsty go in front of me because, honestly, I had nowhere else to be. So, in what seems to have been an unconscious karmic balancing act, now when faced with lines during which I have something more meaningful I could be doing, I have suddenly taken a new tack.
I am not waiting.
My strategy has been interesting and I am not going to detail it here because I do not want you all to cop my gig. I have some ground rules including the reality that I would never cut in the ladies bathroom line (though I am for sure hitting the men’s if that option exists sans line) and if one is to cut in line, one better be sure they can accomplish the cut and be efficient about it; you do not want to be vacillating after the jump, you know what I mean? And you always treat the line-master (the bouncer, the server, the bartender, the salesperson) with total courtesy and a smile.
I will continue to wait patiently in lines when I am not looking to be doing something else or spending time with someone who is not in the line, but for now I am going to get the pizza without the wait, get the i.d. bracelet before all these other people who are still faffing about looking for their i.d.’d in the first place, get the cocktail to go and make sure the shirt is what we want without the wait. And all the while I am gonna be making friends and gettin’ ‘er done, even if I have given the non-answer answer: (“Hon, are you with the promoters or something? The line is way back there…” “Um, yeah, I just gotta get these three cocktails and then I’ll be out of the way.”) It is an Obi Wan thing.
And I never saw Obi Wan waiting in any silly line… after all, “these are not the droids you are looking for.”