On lines, or on standing on lines

After smelling every single candle in Marshall’s (landed on Yankee Candle Crackling Campfire, which is underwhelming but I’m..

warming up to it



and proceeding to the extraordinarily long line, which still somehow takes my breath away even though all stores in New York are at capacity at all times of the day, I remembered that standing in line (excuse me, on line) in New York is, for no reason, just like driving in New York. I always make a feeble attempt to give the person behind me the benefit of the doubt, but without fail they will stand too close to me and eventually bump me with either their body part or their bag or their cart. It’s like they think that somehow they will lose their place in line if they don’t crawl directly up my ass for the full half hour that they’re behind me.

Do you want to see the authentic New York City? Go into a fucking Trader Joe’s at 7 PM on a weekday. That shit will shut down any faith in humanity you may still have left.


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