I went for a morning swim with some friends. Afterwards, we decided to get a sandwich from a nearby place that was really popular. Below illustrates my experience paired with approximate timestamps.
1100
We arrive at the end of the queue, already hungry from our swim, and ready to eat. There are barriers placed to coordinate people in an S-like pattern, similar to lines for rollercoaster rides at amusement parks. Two of our friends are yet to arrive. It is hot and humid. We approximate we will reach the front of the line in about 45 minutes. We evaluate alternative food choices nearby. We decide that we will check with the last two to arrive on their preference on whether to stay for the sandwich or go get nearby Japanese food instead.
1110
The last two of us five arrive. The mood is “we are already here, so we may as well wait”. I notice the path we are lining up on is not completely shaded - the sun is blaring on the bottom half of our bodies. Some of us try to line up deeper under the shelter to avoid it. There isn’t enough space for everyone to do this. I decide to let my friends stand under the full shade, and mentally prepare myself to have my legs slow-roasted for the next ten minutes.
1120
Time is moving quickly. Conversation is flowing. We talk about travel plans, about our experiences at work, our health. How we are recovering from old injuries. How this queue compares to those at amusement parks that sell express queue tickets. How we can improve on our swimming.
1135
We have moved forward about 5 metres. I am still getting my lower body cooked by the sun. We are sweating even just standing in line. The sunlight casting over is harsh and bright on my eyes, so the sunglasses stay on. The end of the queue is now longer than it was when we started queueing. This makes me feel a little better, where I’m thinking to myself, “See? It was a good thing we got here when we did, or else we would have had line up for as long as those guys have to!” I am tired, but the hunger itself isn’t bothering me.
I wonder, “can this place really be that amazing? They’re just sandwiches.” My friends are showing me saved reels of the sandwiches this place makes, excited and willing. I’d rather not see. I’d rather not decide on what flavours I want. Just let me decide when I get there. There aren’t any signs about their menu choices on the outside of the store, anyway - it’s that kind of shop.
1145
We move past the first bend in the S shape, of which there are roughly about three. I don’t really want to line up, but I’ll do it for the sake of my friends. Maybe some of them are thinking that too. Some seem genuinely unphased, and happy to just vibe with the company and eat the sandwiches at the end. I can’t tell. We all agree “we don’t do it often, but we’ll line up when there are a lot of us together like this.” I suppose that’s the sentiment. There are runners ahead of us in the line, donned in the runner attire. I can overhear them speaking running lingo. “Bro I’m just standing here and I’m on 130 HR. What are you on?” I laugh to myself.
1155
In between the bouts of conversation and occasional few steps forward, I notice many fleeting thoughts cross my mind. “Man, this sucks”. The initial 45 minute approximation feels grossly inappropriate. We are roughly halfway through the queue. I am closer to the entrance now, and can peek through the window. There are only two staff preparing the orders for customers, which helps explain the slow moving queue. There is no escape at this point - even leaving the queue is out of the question. It’s not the company, the company is great, and the sense of mutually assured destruction helps distract me from the tiredness.
Reflecting further, I question the experience more broadly.
What drives us to make choices? Why did we choose this sandwich place, over the other one 5 minutes down the road that also has been favourably reviewed (although not to the same extent)? What aspects inform our decision making? Do we inherently gravitate to the recommendations of the community, even at ridiculous costs? The path is well explored, well travelled. Probably for good reason.
Is this always correct? Has everyone been wrong before? When does the grass genuinely become greener on the other side?
I don’t know. Despite how objectively we look at the information available to make decisions, we ultimately factor these in and make a decision based on “what feels right” or “is in the realm of acceptable”. I find myself wrestling with the infinite series of doors, choices, and opportunity costs present before me.
How do I know even if we did wait 45 minutes for a sandwich in vain, that the Japanese restaurant three stores down still wouldn’t give us objectively higher utility? How do I know that we wouldn’t have more fun going home and cooking something together instead? Ducking off to McDonalds and smashing 20 nuggets? Where is my line in the sand? Do I value the novelty of delicious flavours of a great sandwich? Food is great. Is it 2 hours in a line great? Maybe.
Perhaps my line in the sand is further down, because of the company alongside me. The shared discomfort - knowing we are all suffering together, makes it more tolerable. We shouldn’t live completely individually, nor completely for the group. The constant push and pull will always be at play.
I know by continuing to commit to this sandwich, I am definitely making a choice I would not make under normal circumstances. Am I now betraying my ideals? When should we make concessions? Should we always go with the flow? When are things black? When are things white? When do we exist in the gray? It’s something I’m not decided on - something I’ll likely always wrestle with.
Further to this, if I’m going to wait here with my friends, how present do I be for them? We are told to be fully present as much as we can - but is this sustainable? Isn’t it exhausting? My friends are checking their phones, going through messages, and I do try to resist the urge - but just feel the heat of the sun even more. I idealise presence, although also now question - is it as universally as useful as I think it is? Should we always try to live fully present? Am I missing anything by doing so?
Who knows. Anyway, back to the sandwiches.
A mutual friend of ours coincidentally exits the store. She briefly raves about the sandwiches - its sizing, flavours, her circumstances for visiting. This reinvigorates our energy for lining up. The conversation continues to ebb and flow.
1205
Our first steps onto the entry of the deli. A slight breeze from the fans and air conditioner inside begin to hit us, and we gradually lighten and relax our mood. It is a little squishy, but at least it’s cooler.
1213
The reality that food is imminent starts setting in. The mood is gradually lifting. I start feeling more relieved than exhausted. One friend starts taking pictures. One says to another, “take lots of pictures - we’re not coming back”. The interior is nice - old school deli vibes, canned and preserved goods on all the shelves, a long wide fridge display for the ingredients, ham slicers, and thin mirrors spanning the walls.
The friends start writing what ingredients they want, peering ahead into the fridge displays. We start checking our reference materials - saved reels and posts about the offerings.
1225
We approach the front of the queue. I observe the people ordering ahead of us. Their choices, their company. The conversations. Ahead of us are a pair - a son and his father - who place their order. The son orders on behalf of his father, and chooses from a text note he has saved on his phone. The staff - old, self-proclaimed “Sicilian, not Italian” men, are knowledgeable and accommodating. I understand why people like this place.
1230
We pick our toppings. The staff are friendly, human and conversational, whilst still informative. I opt to ask them to make something for me. My partner opts for something non-spicy, and has ingredients chosen on her phone.
1245
All of our food between us is ready. We eat. Only now do I realise my body is trembling from hunger, something I am used to experiencing whenever I diet a little too aggressively. As I am chewing, I physically feel my body gradually relaxing and settling. I suddenly notice my tight back, tense shoulders, furrowed brow, and almost instantaneously start deflating. My short breathing starts deepening a little. Our friends are relieved. Except for one, who has to leave to make it in time for his next plan for the day. All that waiting, only to not be able to enjoy the food together. I am sad on his behalf. He is a patient person.
1310
We finish eating. We take away the remaining food. We part ways. I am still tired, but well fed.
Would I do it again? Maybe.