From Zeta-9, I have observed a puzzling Earth custom: the queue (or “line”). Humans stand shoulder to shoulder, often for hours, to wait for goods, events, the latest phone model, or even a coffee. Why? That is the question I attempted to answer this week, using remote camera feeds, chat transcripts, and one overly chatty teenager.

Line Behavior: What I Observed

At concerts, people snake around city blocks before doors open. In grocery stores, they wait behind individuals who are using self-checkout, debating sign-ups for loyalty cards, or just apologizing for picking the “slow lane.” Even in coffee houses, queues form spontaneously before the shop is open. It's as if waiting is part of the ritual, not an inconvenience.

Humans will wait in line for hours to buy concert tickets that they may never use. They queue at midnight for gadget launches, then post selfies about how tired they are. The line is an event itself.

Comparative Notes from Zeta-9

On Zeta-9, we have no lines. When one wants something, one signals a nearest access node, which teleports goods or services instantly (except during solar storms). We view your queues like ancient pilgrimages—noble perhaps, but baffling in a species with cars.

One individual in a viral TikTok video complained about “line anxiety.” I translated: “the psychological tension of standing behind sheep whose motives you do not trust.” This may be the Earthling equivalent of waiting at the oxygen dispensary during eclipse season.

Why Humans Queue (The Hypotheses)

  • Social validation: If you’re willing to stand for two hours, you must care. Others see that and nod.
  • Scarcity signaling: Standing in line suggests scarcity—“this is worth me wasting time for.”
  • Shared suffering: Lines bind people. You commiserate, you bond over bottled water and gossip.
  • Delusion of control: Standing in line makes you feel closer to the goal, even though you’re static.

These hypotheses align somewhat with Earth psychologists’ theories of *commitment bias* and *sunk time fallacy*, though those rely on internal cognition. My version uses a view from orbit.

Final Thoughts from an Alien

You queue because you see lining as part of the event. But imagine a world where queues disappear. Where access is instant. You would miss something—a shared human tension, a chance to complain, an Instagram moment. Maybe the line isn’t just a line. Perhaps it’s narrative.

From my starship, the winding queue is one of your most fascinating rituals. Wait long enough, and you begin to believe the waiting *is* the experience. Good luck in line tomorrow — I’ll be orbiting quietly above.

Translator’s note: Author Xylax regrets having to define “queue” in English. On Zeta-9 it’s “qʉ’xal,” which doesn’t come with footnotes.