Queuing. Not something I’m fond of.
Standing in line is a site not uncommon in Seoul.
The travelers of the intercity buses tend to make a que under the sign, waiting the six to fifteen minutes in single file for the red bus to appear.
I, however, take this time to indulge in the offerings that surround me.
The sights, smells, people passing, it’s all very entertaining from afar as I lean against the nearby ally wall.
The line lengthens as the minutes pass by. Countless coats and umbrellas blur past me, walking as one force until their destination pulls them out of the energy of the moving group. Locals and employees of the ally’s shops walk slower past me, finding their doorway and disappearing. Some smokers nearby linger longer. But then they go, too.
Still waiting for my bus.
At the Sadang bus station for 7780, almost everyday there is a lady cooking up some typical street food. I like to have a snack while I wait for the liners to load the bus, tailing in last. I’ve never been denied a seat on the bus, perhaps one day I will.
Whether or not it’s really worth the wait, it’s the mentality of the que-ers that is more interesting.
Koreans follow one after the other like elementary school students with fingers laced behind their backs.
As one who tends to avoid lines at all costs, I believe that there’s a lesson for me, and other Westerners, to learn here.