The queue was 5-row deep. There were disgruntled passengers. Dads yelling, mums sweating trying to keep kids in line, babies crying. Some fuck-up with check-in.
I stayed quiet, contentedly watching Cougar Town on my computer as the queue moved at snail's pace. Behind me, a girl spoke non-stop with her boyfriend, who was directly in front of me.
"You kids checking in together?" I asked.
It was rhetorical.
"Go on, move on in, in front," I offered.
"'Preciate it," the boyfriend mumbled.
The gesture put me at the very end of the queue.
When I finally got my turn to check in, I smiled benignly at the visibly rattled crew member of Hong Kong Airlines.
Asia's Most Hyperactive Gay Boy™ got upgraded to Business Class. I can only surmise it's from my being non-hyperactive, at the very end of a highly hyperactive, epic queue. The crew did their best to accommodate everybody else, there was nowhere else to book me except Business.