In New York, we have to wait on line for everything. Whether you’re biding your time to get into an immersive pop-up, battling the afternoon hordes to secure a chopped salad from a fast-casual spot or just trying to buy a couple of batteries from your inexplicably popular corner bodega, you can expect to queue up for a bit. In fact, when the end of the world comes, New Yorkers will probably have to form a single-file line to meet their doom.
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And let’s face it: No one likes spending more time than they have to on line. It’s dreadfully dull, and it forces us to be the one thing that we all hate being the most: patient. By far the worst part of the experience, however, are those mystifying creatures who, despite 15 minutes of waiting, get up to the counter and somehow, miraculously, still haven’t decided what they want to order.
How does this happen? Are they just walking around and randomly joining lines? Are they under the impression that the line will never end? When their big moment at the front finally arrives, they look up vaguely from their phone, serene and totally unprepared. They should all be sent to the back of the line immediately.
