The Swiss are genetically incapable of forming a queue, or line, as we call it in the US. And I hate a line-butter. (Or line-cutter, some people call them line-cutters). Don’t you?
Sure enough, Swiss passports to the man, but, more importantly, no guilt! They don’t even know that they have butted into the head of a line that stretched back to Guam!! And, even though I don’t understand a word of Portuguese, the natives in the line were pissed, too. I could tell by undertone, the vibe, the body language. Even little old ladies were pissed! “Bah, F***ing Swiss!” is pretty much universal in any language.
Why do they think they are entitled to do this? They are from a highly regulated country that manages to teach their infants not to cry on Sundays, (which, I suspect, involves the employment of duct tape from an alarmingly early age, but I cannot prove this). Why can they not understand the concept of a line? Here are a few more examples that make my teeth hurt:
Getting on an Elevator: If you have ever seen anyone get on an elevator first, immediately turn around and plant their body right in front, right in the middle, and, subsequently, force all of the other passengers to make their way around them like water going around a boulder in a stream, then that person was Swiss, guaranteed. I ride the Metro every day. At my Metro stop, I have to get on an elevator to get up to street level, so I have to experience this phenomenon at least once, if not two or three times per day. And I have been studying them. In depth. Because this is soooooo annoying to me.
At first, I thought it was just little, old ladies who felt somehow entitled to interrupt proper elevator behavior. Little, old ladies can be annoying in any country. Let’s face it, they are kinda mean and scary, as a general rule. But, sadly, no. It is all age groups, both sexes, all socio-economic strati. With one exception. The moms who are pushing strollers always go to the back of the elevator and try to get to get out of everybody’s way. So, here is a small cheer for the Swiss moms with little tykes. Good for you.
Me, being the smart-ass that I am, I try to set an example. I think to myself, “Self, we are going to teach these Swiss folks BY EXAMPLE how to properly queue.” So, using PRONOUNCED body language, I make a big, exaggerated, sweeping move to the side when the Metro stops and show the natives how rewarding it is to let other people off the train before embarking. I SKIP to the backs of elevators when I am lucky enough to get on first with a giant smile on my face. “Look, Swiss people!! This is how you do it! You go to the BACK and you plant your ASS against the SIDE!”.