I have now, finally, emerged from my Easter sugar fuelled coma and am ready to get back to blogging. And as I emerged, eyes blinking from my choco-daze, I ran straight into a 300 people strong queue outside the newly opened H&M store at Melbourne GPO. This was well over a week after the opening and still the line was wrapped around the building and up Elizabeth street. On its opening day the store apparently had 15,000 people through the door. Barriers were erected to manage the lines, bouncers dotted the GPO’s steps and several news channels covered the opening.
I think I’m getting too old to queue. Personally I have no interest in queuing for H&M clothes that look just like Zara and Top Shop and everyone else. But I’m also losing interest in queuing at restaurants. A ten minute wait for a table to get my hashbrowns at Di Bella? Ok fine. Fifteen minutes for the staff to clear a spot at the bar at Gazi? Yeah, ok. But the two hour, stand in a long line at Mamasita or wait for a text from Chin Chin is wearing thin. Sometimes I feel like I’m waiting for the latest iPhone or Beiber concert tickets only the crowd looks a little less nerdy or fourteen respectively and all you get at the end is overpriced cabbage salad or deconstructed apple pie. I know restaurants want to be able to turn over tables quickly, I get that they want you to drink at their bar first. I understand why restaurants have a no-bookings policy, but I don’t have to like it.
Maybe it’s because we’re spoilt for choice in Melbourne that I feel resentful waiting for a table when so many other good seats are available elsewhere. Maybe it’s because I’m getting old and grumpy and don’t like standing in heels for too long. Perhaps it’s because, on my less student-like budget, I eat at nicer places and am therefore not willing to put up with the various looks of patronising sympathy or scathing dismissal you get from waitresses when you ask ‘how long for a table for two?’ on a Friday or Saturday night. I mean, seriously, they are a restaurant, seating and serving people is what they do! Sometimes I feel like Oliver Twist when he stands up and asks for more gruel. I mean, some staff look genuinely offended that you’d even ask, as if suggesting they might have a table free on a busy night is tantamount to crimes against humanity or, worse, a bad urbanspoon rating.
There’s actually queuing psychology and a lot of studies out there on how we react to queues. Humans still tend to follow the herd and, when faced with a choice of two places, one with little to no wait and one with a long queue they will often go with the long queue – choosing safety in numbers essentially. Plus there’s a sort of weird Melbourne pride in queuing for a ridiculous amount of time at a really popular place. Like some endurance athlete, you held out the two hours seventeen minutes that your friends didn’t. You’ve eaten somewhere they haven’t yet. You’re now one of the chosen, or something like that. Plus you can instagram the crap out of the long awaited meal, if you’re not too weak from hunger pains by the time it arrives, that is. And, don’t get me wrong, I’m guilty of this. I’ve done my time on Mamasita’s steps, I’ve stood outside the club-like Gelato Messina, shivered in a line outside Mamak and have, on occasion, waited an hour for brunch.
I guess the point is that I think queuing at restaurants is on the demise. At least, I’m hoping so. Touché Hombre has started taking bookings this year. Philippa Sibley has opened a restaurant, Prix Fixe, that you have to buy tickets to ahead of time. The availability and increase in online restaurant review sites and foodie blogs mean you no longer need a queue outside a place to know it’s good or to get a sense of hype. So, personally, I’ll be repenting my queuing sins and only going if I can secure a seat ahead of time…at least until Heston’s restaurant opens in Melbourne next year.