The best/worst example of this is entitlement is the inability for people to wait in line. It seems like everywhere that I go, there is a line. And where there is a line, there is a jacka$$ who thinks that he is too special to wait in line. So, here goes. You are not special: get the f*%$ in line.
This morning, we woke up at 6:30 to make sure that we could catch the 7:30 airport shuttle and arrive at the airport within the suggested 2 hour timeframe. Because that is what responsible people do.
As we were navigating our way through the clusterf*&% that is the San Francisco airport, some woman comes barreling in front of us and says to the airport attendant, "can I just get in front of the line because I have to catch my flight in 40 minutes." Of course, the United representative said no, to which this imbecile replied, "well, what should I do?" I had not yet had my coffee, so I chimed in to say, "you should wake up earlier next time so you can get to the airport in time." What I wanted to say though is, "what the hell do you think you should do, you ignorant piece of bird poop? Oh wait, you think you are so important that every single responsible person here should just let you in front of them. NO." Not getting the answer she wanted, this woman quietly took her chances and got in line with the rest of us.
Oh wait, just kidding, that is not how the story ends. She went to every other United representative and finally weaseled her way into the disability line. I guess no one told her that being ignorant is not a disability.
You might think I am being harsh, but seriously? Did she think that everyone else in line enjoyed getting up at the a$$ crack of dawn to get to the airport and stand in ridiculous lines for the privilege of paying your right arm to check luggage, throw away liquids, and be herded like cattle onto a delayed 5.5 hour flight. No, we didn't enjoy it, but we did it. Because we are NOT special. No one is special. Get the f*&% in line.
On our vacation, we rode our bikes from San Francisco to a little town called Tiburon. From Tiburon, you catch a ferry back. The ferry was scheduled to leave at 5:10 and the next one wasn't until 6:45. We busted our butts, on a tandem bike, against gale force winds and ridiculous hills to get there in time for the 5:10 ferry only to be told that they were not sure there was room, but to stand in line and wait with fingers crossed. Fine.
A few minutes later, the ferry attendant came to tell us that there was room for a few more bikes. Score! As we unhooked our bikes, some woman comes charging around me to get on the ferry first. Are you f'in serious? I stepped out and told her firmly, "this is a line." Her response, naturally was to ram into me with her bike. Not being one to be discouraged by rude European tourists, I stuck my hand up to her face and again, informed her, "this is a line. Wait your turn." The kicker to this? The urban hipster behind her pipes up and says, "well, the ferry attendant told her that bikes are allowed now."
Again, is this for real? What the hell? Do you think that I am standing here with my bike, in a line, because I DON'T want to get on the ferry? Do I somehow give off the impression that I am a person who wants to stand, holding her bike for the entire 2 hours that it will take for another ferry to arrive? Or maybe you think that I do want to get on the ferry, but quite frankly, you just don't give a crap because you think that your time is more important than mine. Guess what, you turd, you are not special. Get the f*&% in line.
Biking on our first trip to San Francisco in 2009
I think that my favorite type of line-hopper is the calculating, tries-to-act-subtle, somewhat passive-aggressive one though. While in line at Starbucks, this person slowly meanders up to the menu, squinting hard like they are really trying to focus. Which, as a side note, is BS. You came up behind me, talking business on your smartphone, with your thick framed glasses, power suit, and $300 Prada laptop tote...don't tell me that you have no idea what skinny drink you order at Starbucks. Anyhow, they stand there and slowly inch in front of you until the cashier says, "can I help you?" and then they all of a sudden turn around and say, with the disbelief of someone who just spotted Christ himself, "oh! were you in line?"
No. I am not in line. I had some spare time today and didn't want to sleep in, watch TV, exercise, go shopping, talk on the phone, walk the dog, or go swimming; I just wanted to stand here at Starbucks and watch them make coffee. I mean, for God's sake, you can't be so totally lost in your own self-indulgence that you actually wonder if I am in line. Or wait, maybe you can because you are an entitled little tool. Bad news for you though, I am not your mother, and I don't think you are special. Get the f*&% in line.
And so, I am begging you, all of you parents out there, PLEASE teach your kids about waiting in line. Please teach them that they are special to you, but that is where it ends. When you go out into the world, you are not special. You are no more important than the person in front of you in line, whether that person is the CEO of Google or whether that person is homeless. This society in which we all chose to live functions better with a little human decency and with the understanding that we are all equals.
If you choose not to follow those rules though, I will teach my child to knock you out. Kidding, but seriously, don't be that person.
Who is your favorite kind of line hopper?
