Standing In the Kew - er, Queue

There's a wonderful old play by Israel Horovitz (who happens to be the father of Beastie Boy Adam Horovitz, AKA Adrock) called Line that I saw some time ago in Philadelphia. One by one, five characters appear on a blank stage and begin to form a line. They're not sure what they're waiting for, but before long they're scheming and lying and cheating and manipulating one another to get to the front of the line. It's a satire of America's win-at-all-costs culture, and it was quite amusing.

I thought of this play the other morning when I showed up early at the British Library to begin the day's research. I knew the reading room didn't open until 9:30, but I thought I might be able to get into the main part of the library and/or the cafe and grab a cup of coffee beforehand, so I arrived about 9:07. When I walked up I noticed three men standing by the door, which indicated to me that they hadn't yet opened. So I stood there for a few minutes considering my next move, thinking they may still open the door a little before 9:30, but after about 10 minutes I decided that wasn't going to happen and I should probably go for a walk or at least go sit on a bench. When I turned to go, however, I saw that a massive line - sorry, queue - had formed behind me. I mean massive, snaking all the way across the plaza and almost onto the street. So I decided to stay put - damned if I was gonna lose my place in line! And then I remembered how one of the things you always hear about the English is that they'll queue up for anything. And then I remembered how I love it when people live up to their national stereotypes, and I smiled.

Maybe if this were an American line there would, indeed, be shoving and conniving and trickery to get to the front, but I can tell you this: if this were in, say, Spain, or maybe Italy, there wouldn't be a queue at all, just a great throng of people pressed up against the windows, gesticulating wildly. Not that the people running the library in Spain or Italy would be quite the sticklers for punctuality that the folks at the British Library are - for at 9:30 on the dot, not a second earlier or later, the doors slid open and the queue passed slowly inside. It was all very civilized.

The next morning, having learned my lesson, I showed up only 3 minutes early. And sure enough, there was the queue. This time I was ready with the camera:



See?