Picking up from last time –
I run up to the front and start counting people in line as quickly as I can. Once I get back to our spot, we’re up to about 240 (give or take a few). Greg was really close as he’d guessed we’d be about 250 back. (My guess is he was right because I bet some people came out of the bathroom, or the woodwork, or wherever in the 10 minutes or so between me counting and the store opening.
I felt bad because some people in line were really giving the line monitors a tough time. Once the line was already moving, someone asked something having to do with time or when we got to buy our book or something. One of the guys in suits (I have no idea who they were – just some line monitor dudes) said, “the store opened at 8.” The random person in line yelled back (in a mean tone, mind you), “no, it didn’t!”
Aw, come on now.
True, it didn’t open right at 8 on the dot. But by something like 8:10 we were already moving – even as the person said it, we were moving! So, it was sort of like, “what’s your damage, dude?We’re moving. Hillary doesn’t even start singing until 11:30. I know you’re probably tired and cranky having to get up so early, and I can understand that because I get cranky when I don’t sleep…
But can we please have respect for the people working this incredibly long line at this event that is most likely very stressful for them? Can we just have a bit of patience since all of us obviously have nowhere to go, judging by the fact that we’ve willingly given our entire mornings to meet Hillary Clinton?”
I heard some other comments to the line monitors, but I don’t need to try to regurgitate them all now. The point is, line monitors, if you’re reading this, I appreciate you. You all were kind and informative and patient and I’m sorry for the people who didn’t treat you with respect.
So, the line starts moving. We’re all way too excited. (That’s actually not possible because she’s Hillary Clinton. There’s no amount of excitement that’s too much to meet her.)
Even though I *just* talked about patience, I’ll admit it seems like possibly the slowest moving line I’ve ever been in. (In real life, it really didn’t move all that slowly. We just wanted our books *so* badly. I just wanted to have that wristband in my possession – ’cause a wristband means you get to meet her). So, we’re dying to just get the band, get the band, get the band.
Finally, *trumpets blare, lights up* I’m in the store.
This is where I’ll pick up next time.