Do you ever wonder why, when you’re walking down the street and you pass a really long line of people, it’s hard to resist the temptation to go up to someone and ask, “Why are you on line?” — even though the line has absolutely nothing to do with you and you have no intention of joining it?
I guess it’s just that reflex we all have not to be left out of anything big …
This morning I passed just such a line — one that made several loop-de-loops — in front of an office tower on Sixth Avenue in Midtown Manhattan. I resisted the temptation to ask anyone what the line was for, but now I’m dying to know. What if they were giving out some of that stimulus geetis?
Do you ever wonder why, when you’re approaching a revolving door and someone is on the other side, that person will wait for you to do the pushing, hoping to take advantage of your momentum without having to push at all? I hate those people, those centrifugal-force cadgers, those upper-body-strength stealers.
I hope our new president does something about them.