I hate the most when it is someone who knows better, I mean I expect the douchey looking teenager to think he has discovered a big secret in times savings. A middle aged mother with child, you know better!
I was once in a queue in a bank, and a teensy little old lady tottered quietly right past the entire line, to take her place at the front.
No one said a word. We all looked at each other with “What th?” expressions. The final silent consensus was that she was so old, so feeble, and so miserable, we didn’t really much grudge her rudeness.
(By now, she has probably managed to shove her way to the head of the line to the graveyard.)
Anytime that happens and the clerk tells the person to go to the end of the line, I make a point to thank them for it when my turn comes up.
Waiting for the train daily, most of us have a pretty good idea of where the doors will stop. A few years ago there was a tiny, grumpy-looking woman who would show up at the last minute, haughtily stroll the yellow warning line in front of us, and tuck herself into whatever crease she could find, usually near where the doors would stop. Nobody ever said anything to her, but over time a warning ripple started to pass across the front of the crowd as she approached, and people would square up enough that there was no gap.
I have to be honest, her chronic and growing frustration as she was forced to get in line behind us each time was delightful. And after these couple of years we’re stil doing it, almost reflexively.
Serious etiquette question, for a similar situation. Bunch of people waiting near where the train will stop. There’s about four, maybe five people clustered around that area. There’s a rather large space amongst them near the front, that no one has stepped into. There’s enough room between people to easily enter that space with no problem. There’s no obvious “line.” Is filling that space cutting somehow?
That is a GREAT question. About ten years ago I commuted for a month on a different line, and everyone at that stop stood back in a loose group…I wasn’t sure what to do. (seriously). I’m not sure what the answer is, but I noticed it annoyed me on the rare occasion that someone stepped into the open space. But maybe that’s because I’m used to a different style of waiting?
I take it you’ve been on one side or another of that event?
We watched a dad with his two kids butt into the middle of a line a couple of weeks ago - we were all lined up to pay for our movies, and the people in front of us weren’t moving up fast enough, so there was a larger than usual space in front of them. The dad just walked up and inserted himself and his kids into that space, ignoring the 20 or 30 people behind the space (where it was obvious the end of the line was). Nice teaching moment, Dad - good to know you’re doing your part to raise the next generation of entitled, oblivious assholes.
There was just about a cheer given when I saw this one Christmas season - we were all waiting in a long line to pay for our stuff when an old man came up and tried to go straight to the till (to pay for his pack of underwear). The cashier said, “The end of the line is over there.” The old guy’s response was, “I don’t want to wait.” The cashier’s response was, “Too bad.” 
I live in China. I’ve forgotten what queues are.
When a queue does form, it’s so notable that it draws my attention.
People who jump the line are counting on not being called on their bs, when you do 9 times out of 10 they retreat like the little bitches they are.
Yes, but that 10th time they cut you with a switchblade.
Very timely thread. I was coming home from Dunkin’ Donuts this morning and somebody tried to slide past me on the side while I was waiting my gap in a roundabout. I thought “didn’t you learn in kindergarten not to jump the line?”
I’m with you on this, for the regulars who drive the road daily.
But it sure sucks to be the out-of-towner who has never seen this particular exit before and doesn’t know that everyone else knows that exit 32 always has a half-mile queue at eight in the morning. It’s distressing to be looking for your unfamiliar exit, thinking “hm… I bet that long line of cars is all heading to my exit. Ugh.”
By the time you realize this, you are past the end of the line and are forced to either skip the exit or become a line cutter.
(says minor7flat5, who just spent 3 weeks driving in the suburbs of Rio de Janeiro, in shock at how many new one-way roads and different unmarked traffic modifications were made in the past five years since his last visit. Fortunately, Brazilians allow almost all traffic sins to slide as long as you smile and give a “thumbs up”)
Well, Mr. Pufferfish walked in today, looked at the line, turned to walk over to the open space, wrinkled up his face and thought about it for 5 seconds, then got in line. Of course, there were only 7 people in line when he showed up today instead of the 20 there were yesterday. May have been a factor.
Actually, that works just about anywhere, I’ve found. When given a chance to be nice, most people will be in such a situation. Any time I’ve accidentally cut someone off or had to do a “wrong” merge, I give the other driver a smile, mouth “Thank You” and flash them the peace sign. They usually smile back.
When they don’t, I just reverse the sign.
I’m going to pit people behind me in lines who try to get a cashier’s or merchant’s attention to “just let me pay for this real quick” while I am in the process of paying.
This is particularly egregious at the local vendor cart in front of my building. Almost every time I am paying for something, people walk up, grab one item like a soda, and wave money and call to the vendor, trying to get her attention and give her their money.
Bear in mind I am not endorsing Deutschbank bearer bonds that have to be converted into US currency – I’m typically digging out some ones and a dime. The whole process, from presenting my purchase to receiving my change, takes only about 30 seconds. And often these people don’t even start trying to intercept the process until partway through. I’ve had people shove their handful of money above mine as I am extending it to the vendor! To her credit, she tries to deal with me first, but these people are often dodgy-looking types who already hold her merchandise, so I’m sure she doesn’t want to offend them either and see them walking away with her stuff.
The vendor keeps two huge ice-filled coolers of drinks in front of her stand. I have to lean across them to hand her my money. Twice this week, someone has tried to lift the cooler lid and start rummaging through the drinks while I was leaning across it. That doesn’t work, of course – the lid only comes up an inch or so before striking me in the crotch.
Neither of these self-centered dumbasses appeared the least bit embarrassed that they’d shoved something into my crotch trying to line-jump. Next time that happens, I’m going to jump and react like they’re molesting me or something.
Usually I helpfully tell queue-jumpers, ‘Sorry, the queue actually starts back there.’ I don’t do it bitchily or anything - I say it exactly like they genuinely haven’t realised, and would obviously want to be told. Which is probably true some of the time.
This one time, though, I was at the supermarket, there was a loooong queue and just one guy in front of me, and out of nowhere this Dublin aul’ one - sixties, under five foot, cuboid, all jaw and monobosom and Don’t Fuck With Me - marches up, shoves right past us and plants herself at the front of the queue. No way had she overlooked the queue; honey badger just didn’t give a shit. The guy ahead of me and I look at each other, and he says, ‘I’m not messing with that.’
Do not mess with the Dublin aul’ one.
Dublin aul’ one, ???
Say what now?
I believe it’s slang for mother. Don’t mess with dublin’s mothers, maybe?
Have you considered having your money out and ready for when it’s your turn? If I’m on a work break and just want to grab a soda and hand over a dollar and the dude in front of me is digging out a dime, well, I guess that’s a different rant.
Heh, I read that as “grude”
Isn’t that the space for where people need to get off the train?
Gah. Culture gap.
Aul’ one = old woman. But it has specific connotations. Helen Mirren isn’t an aul’ one, and won’t be an aul’ one even if she lives to a hundred. Your classic aul’ one has a headscarf and a shopping trolley, with which she will run you over if you fuck with her. She has about eight kids, even though you know from looking at her that there’s no chance she’s ever had sex in her life. She lives on meat and potatoes and cabbage; anything else is Foreign Muck. Her favourite thing is disapproval.
I’m pretty sure there are equivalents in other cultures, but I don’t know what they get called.
ETA: Yeah, it can also mean ‘mother’, as in ‘So’s yer aul’ one.’