My Personal Vendetta Against Orderly Queues
Let’s be honest, is there anything more universally loathed than standing in line? It’s the ultimate test of patience, a purgatory of shuffling feet and stifled sighs. But what’s worse than the waiting itself? The unspoken rules. Those invisible lines in the sand that dictate your every move, enforced by the laser focus of a hundred bored eyes.
My personal vendetta against these unspoken rules began at a theme park. Picture this: sweltering heat, screaming children, and a line for a roller coaster that seemed to stretch longer than the ride itself. After an eternity of baking in the sun, I dared to check my phone. The collective gasp from the people around me could have knocked me over. It was like I’d committed a cardinal sin against the queue. That’s when I knew: this system was broken, and I was going to break it further.
The Myth of the “Personal Space Bubble” in Lines
Let’s address the elephant (or rather, the lack thereof) in the room: personal space. Apparently, in line-land, the acceptable distance between you and the person in front is precisely 2.7 inches. Any more, and you’re clearly not taking the queue seriously. Any less, and you’re basically breathing down their neck.
Newsflash: I like my personal space. I like to be able to stretch, scratch my nose, or do a little impromptu jig without bumping into someone. So yes, I might stand a respectable foot away from the person ahead. Sue me.
