French people and rules
Or the mystery of the yellow line.
Have you ever been in an airport? Do you know how to recognize an American from a French guy?
Easy: the American is waiting for his turn BEHIND the yellow line. As all the signs suggest.
Clearly, this guy is a moron.
Well, at least from French people eyes anyway. Because, we, the Frenchies, know perfectly well that rules are made for others. Why, would you ask? Piece of cake: le French man, the one and only, wrapped in his legendary arrogance coat, is smarter than the rule. It has been made for lesser men, the dull ones. Plus, it’s obvious that it can’t harm anybody if we cross a little bit that f’ing line, why don’t we just stick to the other person in front of us so we will go faster?!
I wonder if a lot of those people actually use their superior brain to ask themselves why this particular rule exists. It didn’t come out of the blue in every airport all around the world… or did it?
So, you probably guessed where I’m going with this: instead of thinking that we are above rules because of our supreme intelligence – but mostly because of our extreme individualism – we should remember that in a herd, we are not much more worth than any other mammals, and that the intelligence of a group is inversely proportional to its size.
But let’s come back to our yellow line.
This yellow line goes through an enormous room, where around 20 lines are quietly forming to control passports. What happens when all the other lines are empty and we are still stuck behind a nice family of 7 Iranians and that we start to feel slightly cheated because we have been waiting here for over 42 minutes now?
The line on your left is clear, the line on your right also…
That’s where the situation is becoming even more interesting! Yes the rule is to wait where the agent told you to, but well… can’t we be just a little smarter than that? So we change lines, we get yelled at by the agent and we start to think that we are less dumb in France, especially when it comes to go over a silly rule that doesn’t apply anymore, while the American agent is probably thinking that I’m another French asshole who thinks he’s better than the rule…
That said, I’m leaving you now, it’s my turn.