On Queuing: The Cognitive Logic Behind Lines

This is a cool article, thanks for sharing. Here's a supplementary tidbit about queuing from my life.

1.) as a Brit, I find it really funny to go abroad because it emphasises how much Brits really do love a good queue. I think it makes us feel ordered. The article touches on this cultural quirk, but it really is quite strong. I quite like it; it's nice for there to be something that feels quintessentially British that isn't steeped in colonialism

2.) I'm writing this because I am disabled, and never realised how much I would miss queuing. I have balance problems, and cannot stand for too long without pain.

If it's a long queue, I have to sit down, but then people may not notice I'm in the queue. Even if they do, it's awkward each time the queue moves because I either have to stand up and move (risky due to bad balance), or do an awkward shuffle along the floor, which can be painful and makes me dirty.

I quite like these queuing systems where you take a ticket and they call you when you're due, because I can sit down when I wait. In lieu of that, I have been practicing a method where I ask the person at the back of the queue if they could hold my place. This is slightly easier if I have a walking stick with me that I can gesture to(which does help with my walking somewhat, but honestly mostly helps signal to people that I am indeed disabled, despite not looking how people might expect). In practice, this means that when the helpful place-holding person reaches the front of the queue, I slip in behind them, saying "thanks for holding my place" or similar.

It's a work in progress. Sometimes I get dirty looks from the people further behind in the queue (we Brits do love the sanctity of queues, after all), or I flub the original explanation and just make everyone confused and end up queuing in the conventional way anyway. There's always tradeoffs though. Even when I have a friend to queue on my behalf, it's sad that I can't stand for long enough to converse with them while we wait. This feels like a microcosm of what it's like to be moderately disabled: to be faced with an array of different, inconvenient compromises that I'd have never considered before I acquired this disability, making a trivial task something I am deeply wistful for. I think it'd be easier if people were better at thinking and talking about disability, but it seems to make a lot of people uncomfortable.

1 comments

This is a cool article, thanks for sharing. Here's a supplementary tidbit about queuing from my life.
1.) as a Brit, I find it really funny to go abroad because it emphasises how much Brits really do love a good queue. I think it makes us feel ordered. The article touches on this cultural quirk, but it really is quite strong. I quite like it; it's nice for there to be something that feels quintessentially British that isn't steeped in colonialism
2.) I'm writing this because I am disabled, and never realised how much I would miss queuing. I have balance problems, and cannot stand for too long without pain.
If it's a long queue, I have to sit down, but then people may not notice I'm in the queue. Even if they do, it's awkward each time the queue moves because I either have to stand up and move (risky due to bad balance), or do an awkward shuffle along the floor, which can be painful and makes me dirty.
I quite like these queuing systems where you take a ticket and they call you when you're due, because I can sit down when I wait. In lieu of that, I have been practicing a method where I ask the person at the back of the queue if they could hold my place. This is slightly easier if I have a walking stick with me that I can gesture to(which does help with my walking somewhat, but honestly mostly helps signal to people that I am indeed disabled, despite not looking how people might expect). In practice, this means that when the helpful place-holding person reaches the front of the queue, I slip in behind them, saying "thanks for holding my place" or similar.
It's a work in progress. Sometimes I get dirty looks from the people further behind in the queue (we Brits do love the sanctity of queues, after all), or I flub the original explanation and just make everyone confused and end up queuing in the conventional way anyway. There's always tradeoffs though. Even when I have a friend to queue on my behalf, it's sad that I can't stand for long enough to converse with them while we wait. This feels like a microcosm of what it's like to be moderately disabled: to be faced with an array of different, inconvenient compromises that I'd have never considered before I acquired this disability, making a trivial task something I am deeply wistful for. I think it'd be easier if people were better at thinking and talking about disability, but it seems to make a lot of people uncomfortable.