What would you queue for?

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JOIN THEM?: The queue at Tim Ho Wan Singapore (picture taken from the restaurant’s Facebook page)

What would you wait in line for?

My answer is – when I have no other way out.

For example, queuing at an immigration checkpoint to get important matters done such as renewing travel documents, paying bills, doing some banking transactions and things like that.

Even so, if there is a choice to complete these activities online, I would do so. These days, air ticket bookings, transfers of funds and paying bills are just clicks away.

So, it is totally beyond consideration (and comprehension) that I would queue for hours on end just to buy a plush Hello Kitty toy or order a fairly ordinary Chinese fare that some people are apparently willing to spend copious time waiting in line to have a taste of.

These thoughts flashed through my mind when I was in Singapore last week. For three days in a row and at anytime of the day, I checked into Plaza Singapura and saw a long queue at Tim Ho Wan, the Michelin-starred dim sum eatery from Hong Kong.

I was told by one queuer that it would be about two hours before he could get a seat – not the food yet, mind you.

Having spent sometime in Singapore, I know how Singaporeans love their food. Where you see long queues, you can be sure some good food is on the menu.

But is the agony from tired legs worth it (outside Tim Ho Wan, there are stools but not enough for all in the queue)? What about rumbling stomachs – all for just some dim sum?

My colleague travelling with me responded with an emphatic “no.”

There are no foods worth queuing such a long time for – that’s his famous punchline.

I agree with him absolutely. For me, a food experience should be enjoyable not only because of the food. Few meals are so delicious as to outweigh another more comfortable choice.

Yes, there were many more comfortable choices around the shopping mall. We enjoyed a good two hours chatting over coffee in a café called dr.Café with two good friends.

But queuing seems to be a part of the Singaporean lifestyle.

Two weeks ago, hundreds of Singaporeans queued overnight at a McDonald’s restaurant to get a limited edition of Hello Kitty or a kitten in a skeleton outfit, portraying a character from the German fairytale The Singing Bone.

It was the last of a series of six limited editions of Hello Kitty characters, dressed in different outfits from popular fairytales, sold by McDonald’s last month.

Tempers reportedly flared and police had to be called in as mayhem broke out from rampant queue-jumping.

Videos showing anxious queuing Singaporeans were uploaded in YouTube — with police mediating between disputing customers in front of a McDonald’s counter.

Some customers took to McDonald’s Facebook to register their anger at the queue jumpers while others happily put their Hello Kitty toys up for sale online at far higher prices.

I saw one price pegged at S$48 even though the toy was originally brought for S$4.60 with set meals.

It was not the first time Hello Kitty had turned Singaporeans crazy amidst traffic jams, packed malls and short fuses.

In 2000, it was the same Kitty mania that wreaked havoc when McDonald’s sold the toys decked in wedding outfits to usher in the new millennium.

Several people were reportedly injured and taken to hospital because of Kitty and Daniel, the bridegroom.

Yes, the incident did catch the attention of the international media.

AFP blared out this headline: Singapore gripped by Hello Kitty frenzy.

Its report was picked up by media worldwide. Notably, Reuters also joined in the madness.

Worthy of note was how caught up Singaporeans were by the Kitty craze that they even braved the hazardous haze from Indonesian forest fires to get hold of this Japanese feline toy.

Sipping his coffee, my colleague told me in his young days, he used to queue for a 50-cent ticket to watch Wang Yu or Loh Lieh kungfu movies.

He said he had only 50 cents in his pocket and it was worth the queue.

“No, it’s not childish but childlike,” he jokingly justified what he did in his innocent carefree years.

The idea of being so excited about something that you need to have it right away, that life will be unbearable as long as you don’t have whatever the thing is, is something many people leave behind when they grow up.

My colleague promptly reminded me I had just bagged the latest smartphone and he quipped: “But you will queue for a gadget.”

No, I would not queue for an apple or a blueberry. It was my younger brother who queued to get a blackberry Q10 for me and delivered it to me while I was in Singapore.

I admit I was excited about it. But that excitement would not compel me to get up early and stand outside a shop, waiting to hand over my cash when the blackberry will still be on sale next week or next month.

Queues are things we usually try to avoid but to actively join one is a deliberate attempt to share an exciting experience and feel a sense of community or do something different – and, yes, get the blackberry or even own the complete set of Hello Kitty before everyone else does.

A mere business transaction or a shopping trip can turn into an event and experience you can share.

So, if you would happily queue for food, then go ahead and line up for Tim Ho Wan’s char siaw pao (Chinese BBQ pork buns) but be reminded that you are only allowed to order a set of three paos. If you have five in a family or a group, fight over it, I suppose!

I took a peek inside the restaurant and saw the “maximum order” and “no take-away” signage prominently displayed.

Since I did not stand in line with the diners at Tim Ho Wan, I would not be able to tell you if it was all worth it but I will quote a food critic in Straits Times Singapore for your reference:

“If you ask me again if it’s worth queuing for Tim Ho Wan,

I would say it depends on how long the line is. If you count

more than 15 people, eat elsewhere.”

Let’s remember that impatience in a queue that turns into a fight or an anticipation that distracts you from your other normal activities, is seen as childish, not childlike.