Queuing

They say that standing on queues is a big thing in the UK.

Today, I ran errands in the neighborhood, including the post office, library, and bank in preparation for The Big L.

In the past few weeks, I've been to the post office more often than usual - to mail my visa paperwork, to buy money orders, etc.  The post office in my neighborhood is kind of cute, actually.  Most of the people working there are Chinese and they speak to each other and joke around in Cantonese behind the counter.  I never expected there'd be such a relatively high concentration of Chinese people in that one post office.  However, it is expected that all the Chinese people that use the postal services think they have special privileges now.  Since it is the Monday after a long weekend, the post office was filled with people, who all begrudgingly joined the queue.  Then, once in a while, a small Chinese lady would shuffle up to the front of the line, arms ladden with boxes to be mailed.  There is a clerk who hovers around the office and helps with random stuff, and he has no choice but to accommodate the skipper.  Nearly everyone on line cursed her privately; even I was going to say to her in Cantonese - in case she didn't get the idea from ten people yelling at her - "Hey!  There is a line!"  Then, a kid about my age was taping up a box on the side and held his spot on line with another box.  As the line inched forward, he would pop back on line and kick the box forward a bit.  Once, he missed the mark and a gap formed in the line.  The older woman before me totally flipped out, and they exchanged not-so-nice words.  "There's so many people in here, the line is to the door, you can't do that, yadda yadda ya..."  Honestly?  Like...a foot of space starting an argument?  How petty, crazy lo-fan.

Next up, at the bank, where I intended to buy GBP with USD.  There was another long line, and a bit ahead of me was an elderly lady, an American grandmaw with red-orange hair in a black mesh headscarf.  She was annoyingly pushing one of those cart/wagon things next to her on line as though she were trying to push her way in front of the woman in front of her; the old lady was definitely invading her personal bubble.  I don't know why this annoyed me more than the argument that went down at the post office, even.  Then, a banker in a suit who looked not unlike an older, fatter Robert Spencer came over, took her hands in his and kissed her on the cheek.  Oh, gosh, I realized then: she's a widow.  Anyway, side note: the bank teller who dealt with my currency purchase had no idea what she was doing.  I was even telling her how to go about: "I think it's $120 divided by 1.7, not the other way around..."  She eventually had to call over three other tellers to help her out.  Seriously?  I could get a job at JP Morgan Chase, you just wait and see.

Anyway, lesson learned: I jump to conclusions too often and pass harsh judgment on others.  I erroneously think I'm better than some people when they act strangely in public.  Perhaps this should be one of my new year resolutions I should work on improving.

Another lesson learned: A lot of stuff happens in your surroundings that may not be worth observing, but things can get interesting when you open your eyes and take out your iPod earbuds.

Ta!