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Today I had lunch at the cafeteria in the building. Not the best food money can buy, but more than decent - and I was in a hurry.
I join the (short) queue, wait for my turn, place my order, get my food then join the (still short) queue at the counter, to pay.
When it is my turn, as I ask for a slice of cake, this very professional-looking man (all suited up, red tie, white hair, leather-looking document bag, you see what I mean) comes in from the door while talking on his phone and walks straight to the front of the queue, next to me: "Macchiato, I'm in a hurry". The lady who is bringing me my cake looks at him and replies "Sorry, let me finish serving him then I'm taking your order". The man behind me, a very nice guy I see every day around the building and often make some small talk with in the elevator - about 2 metres tall, quite muscular and also very professionally dressed - intervenes. "I'm sorry, but I think that I was next". At this point I had been served and paid, but I was sticking around to see what was going on. Well, the cafeteria lady took the order of the gentleman who was properly queueing, while the queue-jumper huffed and puffed... and then of the next in line... and then of the next... with this guy still on the phone and muttering about "only a coffee" or things like this... until he finally realised that he would have been better off joining the queue.
I join the (short) queue, wait for my turn, place my order, get my food then join the (still short) queue at the counter, to pay.
When it is my turn, as I ask for a slice of cake, this very professional-looking man (all suited up, red tie, white hair, leather-looking document bag, you see what I mean) comes in from the door while talking on his phone and walks straight to the front of the queue, next to me: "Macchiato, I'm in a hurry". The lady who is bringing me my cake looks at him and replies "Sorry, let me finish serving him then I'm taking your order". The man behind me, a very nice guy I see every day around the building and often make some small talk with in the elevator - about 2 metres tall, quite muscular and also very professionally dressed - intervenes. "I'm sorry, but I think that I was next". At this point I had been served and paid, but I was sticking around to see what was going on. Well, the cafeteria lady took the order of the gentleman who was properly queueing, while the queue-jumper huffed and puffed... and then of the next in line... and then of the next... with this guy still on the phone and muttering about "only a coffee" or things like this... until he finally realised that he would have been better off joining the queue.
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