Queuing takes patience, and there is also an art to queuing as the Covid-19 restrictions have reminded us. Whether we like it or not, most of us will have queued for something in our lives. There are the unspoken rules that we are taught as a child—to behave whilst waiting, not to be loud (so as to not disturb those in front or behind), and obviously not to push in. An orderly queue is a rarity these days as somewhere along the lines all those rules of decorum seem to have vanished. We see people trying to sneakily cut in front of others while on their phone so you can’t confront them, and people will happily yap/argue on their phones with their speakerphone on for all and sundry to hear, while parents think it's cute if their child grabs/kicks/shouts at the person in front or behind—for the record, it is not cute and it is deeply unpleasant.
If I have a backpack on that keeps others at arms length, and if I have a trolley, then I keep it behind me to maintain a safe distance, and this was before Covid-19, because we all need some personal space. I’m not anti-social, but these days people lack the ability to respect personal space especially in places like Aldi or Lidl. Otherwise, you’re lucky if people maintain a few inches between you in a queue. There is something about a queue though that intrigues people—what are they queuing for, as a fear of missing out appears to consume them? If people are willing to queue out of the door of a shop, then it must be good, or is it? The human psyche naturally wants a piece of the action, and if people are prepared to wait, then whatever is on offer must be exceptional, or so we are led to believe.
I have always had a love-hate relationship with queuing as I’m not particularly patient, but accept it as a necessity at times. I will confess that I have put things back and given up because the stress of queuing was daunting, and I question whether I really needed to buy the item or visit the shop. At least that saved me buying items on a whim. I’ve never understood why when one person is queuing to pay for an item that their entire family has to queue with them, taking up space and making the queuing experience less pleasant for everyone else. They can stand to one side and not in the queue, but the would make life far too easy and sensible…
I had a summer job managing the queues at an airport once, and because of the limited capacity in the building we had to ensure only passengers travelling were in the queue due to overcrowding. When I yelled out to ask for only passengers to be in the queue, about 200 people left the space I was in within seconds, and in one case there were 15 people for one person. Perhaps people don’t think about logistics and practicalities, which is why airports and rail and bus stations have strict rules to try and maintain orderly and functional queues. Behind the scenes, queues are managed, and resources are allocated to maintaining safety as well as ensuring people don’t miss their departures, so people queuing unnecessarily are a burden on the resources. Managing a queue can be a thankless task, especially when people are inconsiderate and they make the process unpleasant for others. That is one of the pitfalls of queuing—you can’t arrive too early as they won’t let you queue, and if you leave it too late, then you can get lost in the queue.
Years ago at University in the US, I declared to my group of friends we should get to the refectory for lunch quickly so that we wouldn't have to queue for too long. My American friends stood in silence as didn't seem to have understood what I said— evidenced by their confused expressions.
"What do you mean cuee?" one asked.
"You know, queue for lunch..." I replied.
I then proceeded to explain what queue meant, and they didn't believe it was a real word. Luckily, I had a Little Oxford Dictionary to hand and showed them that I wasn't making it up. They passed the book around as they each tried to pronounce 'queue' in all sorts of strange ways that in hindsight was rather amusing. That was a defining moment when I realised that American English was indeed a different language to British English, and my American friends rather liked discovering a new word, as they kept repeating it all the way to lunch!
"What do you all say instead of queue?" I asked.
A shrug of the shoulders was accompanied by a giggle and 'stand in line!'
Covid-19 forced the world to queue in a specific way, with social distancing, and people couldn't speak loudly as they wore masks. The elderly and vulnerable were allowed to go first and jump the queue, coupled with their own dedicated shopping spots, and key workers didn't have to queue either. What it proved is that people can queue properly and in a civilised and orderly fashion when they have to, and everyone had to queue to do their grocery shopping. Sadly, those imposed social habits that did no harm and were civilised have been forgotten by the masses, and we are back to rabbles and unruly queues that staff are too afraid to control for fear of being verbally attacked.
How people queue depends where you shop—Aldi, and Lidl, forget it as it’s a free for all, so go when it's quiet or resign yourself to braving a queue elbow to elbow. Other than that, when you hear a new till being opened, race to it so you don't have to queue while trying not to push anyone out of the way or to trip over a basket. In any budget stores, you have to be quick off the mark when a new till is about to open, for that can save you 10 minutes of your life.
In places such as Waitrose and Marks & Spencer, it is generally more civilised where the prices are higher, but is offset by the fact that you won't spend too much time queuing or having an anxiety attack with people yelling, or shoving and cutting in front of you. That is a small price to pay for a stress free shopping experience.
I was in Primark the other day, and if the queue is less than five people, then that’s a short queue and my bar for a bearable queue. There are always queues in the store and you enter knowing that you will have to queue if you wish to purchase anything. I braced myself as two people dashed in from of me to queue—I wasn’t quick enough, but it was fine as they only had a couple of items each and not a heaving basket full. Despite this it was still slow, and the woman behind me was getting frustrated because there were only two cashiers with a bevy of other staff members wandering around doing other jobs. When I enter a Primark queue, I psych myself up for it and only do it if I really want or need the items in question. We exchanged eye rolls as we waited—she shook her head asking why they don't open more tills. As we only had two people in front of us, that was bearable to me, and replied 'It's the price you pay for shopping in Primark,' where she reluctantly agreed as she toyed with the items displayed in the queue that were designed to tempt you to buy them. It’s the same as queuing in Aldi, Lidl or any bargain store—you accept that cheaper prices means having to queue longer than average.
Then there is the awkward moment when you don't know where to queue, especially if a gap has been left so it doesn’t block an exit or throughway. Airports are the worst, and in Dubai I saw a small family deliberately join a queue in the gap. Everyone else was horrified because the father actually knew he was pushing in, but didn't make eye contact with anyone or use the obligatory, 'Is this the end of the queue?' No one dared say anything, but you can't leave these things too long, and I stepped up for everyone (as we had been queuing for at least 20 minutes) and politely pointed to the end of the queue. The father looked at me rather sheepishly because he didn’t think anyone would challenge him and ushered the family to the back of the queue. I was hailed a hero afterwards by all around me because I did what everyone wanted to do, which was to say, ‘Get to the back of the queue!’ but were too afraid of confrontation. They were all thinking it but no one dared say it. There is nothing worse than seeing a queue jumper get away with it by breaking the rules, while the ones who abide by the rules are too polite to confront them.
Of course, sometimes people make mistakes because it’s hard to know where the end of the queue is, and who is queuing for what (such as a Mega Bus queue) when queues cross over into each other, and are so long that you might be in the wrong queue. God forbid you were in the wrong queue all the time because you were too afraid to ask! It’s much safer to ask what the queue is for and where the end of the queue is to avoid the faux pas, and worse still to queue for the wrong thing. I’ve seen that too, where people have missed their bus as they were in the wrong queue, because they had their headphones on, or were too busy on their phones to pay attention to hear the staff telling people where to queue (because they can and do change from the signs).
I've seen others sneakily slip in front of a queue, trying to pretend they didn't see the barriers for the queue or the big sign that says 'QUEUE HERE'. It’s rude, and I never hesitate to put them right. Once an arrogant man refused to go to the end of the queue when he had clearly jumped the queue, and thought he had got away with it until the cashier refused to serve him. It forced him to have to do a walk of shame and walk past everyone he had tried to push in front of—if only more cashiers had the courage to do that!
Everyone is in a rush, but queuing is a part of life and we have to do it at some point, so why can't people do it in a dignified and respectful manner? Talking on your phone while the cashier is serving you is rude, yet people continue to do it and holds up the queue. In a recent incident, a woman (in her 60s) was busy talking on her phone and the cashier had a query for her click and collect (needed to see her ID) and had to wait for to get off the phone. If it hadn't been for the heatwave, I was sorely tempted to tell her to get off the phone (she was only chatting) as she was holding up the queue.
Poor queue etiquette and manners in general has made me dread queuing these days even more, and often I put things back in a store if the queues look unruly. I've seen fights break out over queuing, and you can learn a lot about people from their queuing habits and mannerisms. I have to say that I've learnt some colourful things about life while queuing in Aldi—some that I wish I could remain ignorant of. I’ve also seen people copy my shopping, asking where I got something, and we are all guilty of silently judging what the person in front has bought.
To queue or not to queue, that’s the question these days where you can literally catch Covid-19 (and die) from someone in a queue who doesn’t wear a mask, have a child hurl projectile vomit over you, or get sandwiched between people who hurl obscene insults at each other. No one likes to queue, but if we all did it in a civilised manner then it would make the task so much more bearable. Like many, I avoid busy days and times to limit any queuing because it can be stressful and eats away at your time. The art of civilised queuing is a dying art, but from time to time I am pleasantly surprised when there are orderly queues with well-mannered folks, and recently that was in Aldi of all places but I hasten to add it was on a quiet day. Go forth, and when you have to queue, queue nicely and consider others for it will make the world a more tolerable place.