De Queue (or The Line, for Americans)
No one likes to wait.
It is a fact of life. Inevitable and unduly irritating.
Why?
Because we as a society have grown accustomed to instant gratification? Getting what we want, when we want it? (“It’s my money, and I need it now!”)
Whatever the reason — and this is not a meditation on our capacity for patience — we don’t like waiting. For anything. A meal. A text. A kiss.
Nowhere is waiting more irritating than in line.
Because not only are you mentally in wait for something, but physically, too. You can literally see your goal. The destination is right there.
(It’s what makes airports so fundamentally frustrating, I think. Get through one line, then another… and another… and still you have to sit on a plane for X amount of hours to get to where you want to go.)
So what do we do when we know we must have something requiring a queue?
Well, there’s a few options, depending on your headspace.
Escape the wait and forget what you want, eliminating irritation but also the joy of your reward.
Endure the wait, all the while staring at the front of the line, tapping your foot, looking around — torture.
Or, enjoy the wait. As much as you can. Accept the present as is.
Number 3 is what several thousand of us did last weekend, in the cold and rain, for anywhere from 2-12 hours… to get into a club.
If you’ve seen my Instagram stories lately, you’re aware of the Amsterdam institution which I’ve frequented this year: De School.
On Sunday morning at 5:30 AM, my alarm went off when these days, I’d normally be off to sleep. But no. This Sunday — bundled up and armed with a 1 liter mimosa, a protein bar, and other necessary provisions — I made my way to queue for De School’s closing party.
It was 5 and a half hours before I got inside. Far, far longer than any wait I’ve endured in my life. And I hate waiting in line.
But it wasn’t miserable. One, because I expected it. (I had been diligently scanning Reddit and checking the makeshift YouTube livestream “De Queue” for the past 24 hours.) Two, because anyone willing to wait in this particular line would be a good person, and I made fast friends — one of whom was sweet enough to cycle to my favorite bakery and return with fresh chocolate croissants. And three…
Because I knew with every fiber of my being that it would be worth it.
And so it was.
—
I’m not here to go into detail about what De School means to me or anyone else. Not the point.
Only to emphasize the very, very old adage that some things are worth the wait.
I know people who were on the guest list or who received a coveted re-entry wristband. They were inside within minutes, and as I watched them float past me in line, my freezing toes clenched with envy.
But the rest of us? The normies? We waited. And the moment I stepped through those elusive doors after 5 and a half hours, the envy evaporated and I felt nothing but pride. In myself and everyone around me.
The funny thing about lines is that once you’re through them, it’s like nothing happened. Like it didn’t even exist.
Such is the flexible nature of time and the mind.
All is to say: some things are worth the wait. Some things even more so given the mental strength and positivity cultivated in the process.
If you’re currently waiting on something — a meal, a text, or a kiss — you got this. Enjoy where you’re at while you can (with mimosa and chocolate croissant in hand) and chances are the wait will be over before you realize.
And you’ll be all the stronger for it.
Or, fuck it all and cut the line. Your choice.
ONWARDS,
Maggie