For the love of queues…

15 01 2016

Last night I went to see the Orlando Magic take on the Toronto Raptors with my brother-in-law and a couple of his friends.

It was a good game, going into overtime with the Raptors winning by three points.

At the end of the game, I think I began to feel my feet again.

Let me explain.

On arriving at the O2 where the game was held, I joined a queue outside to get in.

No idea why, but I’m British and that’s what we do.

Fortunately it was the correct thing to do before going through security.

There were four long snaking queues taking an age to move due to, I assumed, heightened security checks.

It was a tad chilly.

My work shoes offered little heat protection.

But we queued on stoically.

We noticed that people were simply ignoring the queues and simply went to the front, barging in accordingly.

Being good British queuers we vented our fury under our breath and did nothing about it.

Still, I’m not sure why these people arrive, look at four huge queues to get in and then just blatantly ignore it?

“Oh look at that queue, they must be going into see the basketball like me. Idiots, they must love queues. I can’t be bothered to be civil to my fellow human beings so I’m just going to jump the queue and make them wait longer in the cold.”

Bastards.

So after about 90 minutes of queuing, grumbling and doing nothing about it, I lost all feeling in my feet.

Just as well that I had a close up view of the game to make up for it.

Oh…

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