Two Reasons Why Standing In Line Is Great

I’m standing in line to buy some art supplies at a cheap store that smells like child labor. Many people are waiting in front of me. The carcinogenic plastic inside seems to be in high demand, now that the lockdown has lifted. We’re allowed to shop freely again. We’re liberated, but we’re queueing at the dollar store.

Since I have a minute to spare, I’m pondering on the sensations of queueing. I decide: I’m having fun. Standing in line is great and here is why:

First, my socially anxious body may simply exist. I am just standing here and that is ok. I have a purpose. The purpose is to stand here. I am allowed to exist without having to do or say anything. Usually, I feel pressured to look busy in public. Waiting for a friend to show up makes me feel nervous because other people cannot tell that I am waiting. What if they think that I’m leering like a creep or loitering like an aimless person? In a desperate attempt to look busy, I pull out my phone and scroll through empty apps.

Isn’t it curious that being in public warrants some sort of productive purpose? Just standing somewhere, without doing anything at all, feels wrong. Everyone else is doing something: scrolling on their phone, talking, walking, smoking, carrying coffee, etc., etc. Why does it feel unnatural to just exist somewhere? It’s something only old people, homeless people, jobless people or drug dealers do. Just existing in public space is an outcast activity. Something unproductive. Something only “useless” members of society do.

Public spaces are designed to be moved through, not to stand still. Shopping streets funnel shoppers from one store to the next. People who stand still don’t buy things, unless they’re queueing, of course. Standing in line permits me to simply exist in public space.

Realising this, in line at the dollar store, I feel calm and grateful. I stand on the street and let my gaze wander over buildings, pigeons and people. This is not boring, I feel comforted. In line in front of the dollar store, I feel zen. This must be the mindfulness everyone is talking about.

The second reason why I like standing in line, is that I am having a hard time consuming. Spending money is usually incredibly easy: my credit card is accepted, the cheerful beeps of approval trigger a warm wave of instant gratification. Retail therapy intoxication. Let’s go to another store, buy more…but not anymore. Now, we wait.

To wait in line, minute after minute, takes effort, commitment and patience: qualities which shopping streets had successfully abolished…until the pandemic hit. Now, there is time to get bored and frustrated. There is time to consider if you really need the thing. Time to consider the cost-benefit. Is this worth my time and frustration?

My cynical self smiles down on the people in line at the Primark. I almost want to put up a camping chair and crack open a beer, just to admire this spectacle of consumerism. How many people will decide that the €2 shirt is not worth the 30-minute wait? How many will endure?

Soon, once the virus loses its power, the lines will disappear and with them the opportunities for purposeful standing and discovery. Enjoy standing in line while you can. Enjoy simply existing in public space. Enjoy the detoxifying feeling of delayed gratification. It’s an opportunity for more mindfulness, more minimalism. Stand in line without the intention of buying anything and leave once you’re in front.

No matter the goal, standing in line will always set things into motion.