On queueing

There is a menace pervasive at this University that goes always unspoken of. It is a treachery I noticed as soon as I arrived at this institution – but I did nothing to address it. Now that I am in my senior year and not muchlong on campus, I can keep my silence no longer. Students of Duke, I beseech thee: you need to stop cutting in line.

There are two main reasons I’ve decided to write my column for this week on the topic of queueing. One is that, as a Brit, the practice of queueing is close to my heart. The other is that I still haven’t finished doing the research for the column I’d actually wanted to write for today and this was the first research-less topic I could think of.

In my home country we use the term “queueing” to mean waiting in line, in a flagrant indulgence of our national fetish for the letter “u”. Cutting a line in the UK is essentially a mortal sin; I can honestly say with only a little exaggeration that it’s a social taboo on the order of punching one of the Queen’s corgis or urinating on a vicar. The few times I’ve seen someone audacious enough to openly cut a line in the UK they’ve always been met with universal murmurs of disgust from the queuers behind them. Let me put that in perspective for you: I’ve been mugged in public twice in London, and both times nearby onlookers just stared at it happening with the kind of blank disinterest more appropriately reserved for a distant relative’s funeral than for a live robbery.

Now, this is clearly something of a misplacement of priorities, so I should make clear that I’m not advocating the Duke community adopt Britain’s nigh-on religious observance of The Queue. But it really was a shock getting here and seeing how often and readily Duke students will jump a queue. You see it all the time: if ever there’s a giveaway for food or free stuff, there’ll be a bunch of people who’ll ignore all the individuals that had taken time out of their day to line up and instead just jump in where their friends are. It happens every Midnight Breakfast, at any on-campus event that has a line—and of course, at Shooters.

The queue jump at Shooters is a remarkable thing if only for its predictability. It always plays out the same way: just as the line has begun to get long, an Uber will pull up. Out will emerge a posse of three to five men and women. As a group, they will loudly bemoan to one another the length of the queue. Then one of two things will happen. In Circumstance A a leader—often a woman—will spontaneously emerge from the group, taking the lead in response to this unprecedented, time-consuming crisis. Quickly gathering her friends behind her and confidently striding straight up to the Shooters door, she will immediately begin negotiations for accelerated entry with the doorman. Honestly, this is a part that I’m still too #irrelevant to understand, but I see that it works – and I’m hesitant to criticize it as queue-jumping because if Shooters’ management wants you in that badly, they do have the proprietorial right to abrogate your wait.

I cannot say the same for Circumstance B, though. In Circumstance B, the Uber posse splinters into subgroups who prowl along the line, searching for an in—either a sympathetic acquaintance or an easily penetrable spot in the line. For the Under-21 line, this spot is usually the point just before the fence hems you in; for Over-21 it’s the area right in front of the brick pillar, where you can shimmy on sideways into the line with relatively little resistance.

At this stage, some of the people cutting will get annoyed because they’re being extensively jostled while trying to enter the line. Keep in mind when this occurs that this is fine, because it will only help them prepare for the cramped and crowded conditions they’ll find once they end up in Hell. Let it be known also that it is always appropriate to boo anyone who is openly attempting to cut the line at Shooters. I began booing at someone who tried to cut me once, and the entire crowd joined in. It was glorious.

Now, I know that this opinion will not be a popular one and I’m going to look like the sanctimonious Tina Fey in the first episode of "30 Rock" or Rashida Jones in "Celeste and Jesse Forever." Cutting is widespread at Duke and pointing out that it’s perhaps a tad douchey will inevitably lead a bunch of people to tell me to chill out, lighten up, take myself less seriously—etcetera. But look: there will be the occasional time you have a very good reason for queue jumping; I’ve probably done it myself at some stage. But it is replete at Duke. And in my opinion, it represents the ultimate expression of everyday Duke student entitlement.