Cutting the Line

Waiting in line is just something we do
Quite often, in varying places;
In theaters, at movies, in markets to pay,
At airports with rolling suitcases.

We line up to enter museum or court
Or any historical site,
So we can be scanned and our bags can be checked
And few people put up a fight.

Need a new license? A passport or stamp?
Join us as we count each minute,
Reading or chatting or grumbling 'cause
Time's a'wasting and we are stuck in it.

But every line, whether snaking or straight,
Has a set down acknowledged decorum;
We patiently wait until someone does not -
And then we cannot just ignore 'em.

Yes, you know who you are - Yes I'm talking to you:
The obnoxiously boorish line-cutter.
Most of us will just stare, shake our heads, roll our eyes,
But a few will do more than just mutter.

For there's always one soul with a really big mouth
Who will challenge the line-cutter's game.
"There's a line here, you know - you must get to the back!"
But the line-cutter suffers no shame.

He might lie - "I was here" or feign ignorance, but
Other waiters will soon get involved;
And it usually ends just the way that it should,
With the cutter gone; problem resolved.

But sometimes a lineholder makes a mistake
And accuses an innocent soul;
In that case accuser should promptly be told,
"Who died and put you in control?"

It's funny to me, that this chutzpah is shared
By line-cutter and phony accuser;
They have personality traits I abhor
And each one, equally, is a loser.

So here's my advice, if you're waiting in line:
Think your thoughts, read a book, close your eyes.
Mind your business and never cut into the line,
And there'll be no unpleasant surprise.