The queue

I was in a queue in the coffee shop. A very smartly dressed elderly woman walked in and cut across the front of the queue and went to the first available till. There was not an ounce of self-consciousness. She acted as if it were her right. Not one of us in the queue said a word.

And I sometimes think the world is made up of two types of people: those who push in; and those of us who let them.

Note: photo from Nomadic Julien on Unsplash

Published by Peter Runkel

"Work hard and be nice to people." Anthony Burrill

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