A letter to…the queue jumper

like to think I’m a reasonable guy, patient, kind. I always try to see the best in people. But you are one of the most disgusting, putrid humans I have ever had the misfortune to meet. The mere thought of you forces me into doing breathing exercises just so that so I can prevent chunks of my body from splat- tering the room after having exploded from pure anger.

Overall, I’d say I am quite annoyed at you. But you probably don’t remember why – hell, you probably have no idea who I am. But let me explain. It was last term, and I was sitting in the library, slowly giving up on my essay and my hopes of sleeping that evening. In the last hour, I had written one hundred words, read one page of a book and broken down in tears 12 separate times. Really, it was just an average Tuesday night. But I nonetheless per- severed, hoping desperately to get the essay finished on time, and hoping that I would be able to sleep before my tutorial the next day. And so obviously I did none of that and went to Hassan’s. And here, my friend, is where you come in. Because as I joined the back of the queue, you stumbled in, very obviously drunk, after what I assumed was a good night at Lola Lo’s. You decided to just waltz in front of me, with no regard of the system of queuing whatsoever.

‘This cannot stand’ I thought. You were not merely pushing in front of me, ruining my night and forcing me to wait for my chips, but you were potentially ruining my entire life. Maybe if I had been faster with getting my food, rather than waiting for you to take a whole minute to decide on what sauce you wanted in your chicken wrap (mayonnaise, a frankly disappointing choice after you spent so much time pondering the various options) I would have got back to my essay sooner. Maybe I would have written a better essay. And who knows what would have happened then!

My life could be monumentally better if you had just obeyed convention. In fact, your blatant refusal to queue is not only an insult to me, but to everyone. Our country is based on queuing: people queue for everything, from the train to the shops. We would be nowhere without it.

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But no, instead you decided to push in front of me, disobeying convention, throwing caution to the wind. But it’s okay – you were drunk, right? We’re all silly when drunk. We all make mistakes, wake up in bed next to strangers, road signs or the occasional puddle of our own making.

But that’s fine, that doesn’t affect ME. I don’t care if you make a mistake. I only care that I get my chips.