It might, of course, have been pure chance—a group who happened to be standing one behind the other. But I didn’t think so. This looked purposeful. These people were waiting for something. I joined the back of the line.
Leaning forward, I caught hints from the conversation of those ahead of me.
“Well, that one’s no better than she ought to be ….”
“Five-nil. What a ….”
It started raining. Some raised umbrellas but nobody left the queue. This must be important.
I rejoiced I’d chosen the right line, as water streamed down my face.