YOU Brits with your neat queues and willingness to wait, so proud of an achievement so boring. Italian Paolo Cinquetti explains how to swerve that cazzate:
Show zero shame
Why waste your one and only life? March past the queuers and plant yourself there at the front. Meek Britons will be so flabbergasted by the extremity of this breach of the rules, they’ll be too shocked even to tut. Yes, they’ll dine out on your rudeness for years to come, but who cares? You’re through security and on the flight.
Disrupt its structural integrity
A UK queue is as neat and orderly as uncooked spaghetti. An Italian’s role is to simmer it until it’s a tangle of strands and sauce. Come at the queue from an angle. Watch the nervous, territorial Brits edge around to keep you at their rear, then flamboyantly and fluidly slip through in Veratti through a defence. The queue is a crowd! Who’s next now? Declare it’s you!
Be beautiful
The more well-groomed and aesthetically pleasing you are, the more you get away with in life. Monica-Bellucify your eyeliner, stride forth with the braggadocio of Berlusconi, and assume all the gasps you hear are due to your astonishing beauty, not passive-aggressive expressions of rage and disgust.
Create anarchy
A queue only works because everyone in it believes in it. Whip people into a frenzy with an impassioned speech that makes them question the fascist, anti-libertarian principles at the heart of queuing. Then stride to the counter of the post office while they’re rioting and return your ASOS order.
Don’t give a shit
Be honest. You British accept cultural quirks such as orderly queuing and apologising when you don’t mean it because you feel judged. Be Italian: be so confident you simply don’t give a toss what your fellow human beings think of you and nobody can touch you, no matter how nasty a stare they throw. Shove forth and say ciao ciao to giving a shit.
