We’ve all been there. Standing in line, feeling the minutes crawl by like snails in a molasses factory. But I’m here to tell you, my friends, that I have ascended. I have evolved. I am no longer a mere mortal when it comes to queuing. I am…a Line-Standing Expert.
From Line-Standing Zero to Hero
My journey began, as most epic tales do, with utter humiliation. Picture this: Comic-Con, the year of the Thanos Snap. I, a bright-eyed newbie, had the bladder capacity of a particularly anxious hamster. I left my coveted spot in the autograph line for a two-minute bathroom break, only to return and find my friends had mysteriously shuffled ten places back. “Um, guys?” I squeaked, “What happened?” Their response? A chorus of “Oh, hey! Didn’t see you there!” and shrugs so perfectly synchronized they could have been a boy band.
Rule #1: The Phantom Placeholder
Remember my Comic-Con debacle? Yeah, that’s a big no-no. Leaving a line without a physical placeholder is like leaving a bagel unattended in a flock of pigeons – chaos will ensue. A well-placed backpack, a strategically abandoned sweater, or better yet, a friend with the bladder capacity of a camel – these are your tools, my friend. Use them wisely.
Rule #2: Mastering the Line-terrogation
Joining an established line is a delicate dance. You don’t want to be “that guy” who barrels in, blissfully unaware of the three-hour wait time. Engage in some subtle line-terrogation. Approach a fellow liner with a weary smile and a casual, “Hey there, how long have you been in this thing, anyway?” This accomplishes two things:
- It gives you a realistic picture of your immediate future (namely, how long you’ll be scrolling through social media).
- It fosters a sense of camaraderie, a “we’re all in this together” vibe.
Rule #3: The Art of the Line Shuffle
Ah, the shuffle. The slow, agonizing creep forward that signifies progress…or does it? The key here is to maintain the optimal distance from the person in front of you – close enough that you don’t get cut, but not so close that you’re breathing down their neck. This requires vigilance, my friends. It requires a sixth sense. It requires…