Regression Line

Although it still baffles me, I have already become resigned to the fact that Filipinos just seem to prefer to walk on the road rather than take the sidewalk. I have also learned to just shake my head in annoyance when they cross the road under an overpass and not on it.

 

Every race does have its idiosyncrasies.

 

But if there is one thing I cannot accept, that one thing that can blow my stack, it’s how bad Filipinos are at lining up.

 

Filipinos suck at falling in line. I honestly do not understand why they would rather clump around instead of line up, or cut ahead in front of you instead of patiently taking their rightful place at the end of a line. Or if they do line up behind you, sometimes they practically push you forward or lay their chin on your shoulder, like when lining up at an ATM and they do not stand a respectable 2 feet behind you, or when they lay their bets down at the lotto booth when you haven’t even finished getting your lotto stubs (don’t ask me why I bet at the lotto—my dad, who’s abroad, has me making his weekly bets for him).

 

But going back to how bad Filipinos are at lining up, it’s downright irksome, and almost infuriating.  It’s shallow, but I can actually get into arguments with strangers and even older people who do not know how to fall in line. Call it my pet peeve, if you may.

 

At the hospital where I work, I have had to call the attention of patient-watchers and employees several times. I absolutely hate it when they do not line up at the laboratory, or at the blood bank, or at the mess hall, or at the canteen. I do not care if they’re 20 years my senior or twice my size. If you even so much as make the mistake of cutting in front of me, I’ll tap you on the shoulder, look you in the eye, and say this dripping with utmost contempt, “May pila po.”

 

Most of time, they feign innocence and say, “Ah, ganon ba?” and then head to the end of the line. Some people, however, stubbornly hold their ground. Once I was lined up at a restroom, and it so happened that the woman in front of me, whom we shall call Friend A, had a friend whom we shall call Friend B, who was lined up for the cubicle next to that I was lined up for.  Incidentally, the friends were both next in line for their respective cubicles.

 

Now, when Friend A was already able to get in, Friend B was left to wait her turn, because for some reason the person inside the cubicle which she was lined up for was taking a bit too long. She obviously couldn’t wait very long, because after about 30 more seconds of waiting, she blurted out for the whole restroom to hear, “Ang tagal naman! Siguro tumatae itong nasa loob!” And if that wasn’t bad enough, she sidled over to my line, and stood right smack in between me and the door to my cubicle.

 

After standing flabbergasted for about 2 seconds, I tapped her on the shoulder, looked her in the eye, and said, “May pila po.” She glanced at me for a second, and then shamefully addressed the door of the cubicle in front of her, “Ah, nakapila naman ako dito kanina e.”

 

It took all my years of education, every last bit of refinement, every ounce of breeding painstakingly inbred into me by my elders, for me not to answer back to her and say, “How dare you cut in line in front of me and justify it by saying that you were lined up here originally. You forfeited your place in this line, you uncouth louse of a woman, and you have no right to act as if you can reclaim it and display outright discourtesy to me and to every other person civilized enough to line up for this cubicle.”

 

Instead, I left the restroom in disgust. I didn’t need to go to the loo as badly as this boorish woman who seemed to have an urgent call to take a crap, anyway. In retrospect, I’m thinking it would have been nice, cathartic even, if I had actually made that outburst. But it’s past, and it’s not like it’s going to make her and every other person know how to fall in line next time.

 

Oh, but don’t you just hate it when people don’t know how to fall in line? And when they cut you in line, look back, and grin sheepishly at you as if to mock you and say, “I’m putting one over you and being discourteous to you and everyone else behind you but who cares because I’m smiling and oh ain’t it fun to cut in line,” oh, don’t get me started on that.

 

This Chinese guy I used to date once told me that Filipinos aren’t as bad at lining up as the Chinese are. Not that I care. But if this really is true, then I’m just so glad I’m not in China.