Why am I Not Surprised?

As a follow-up to funniest book in the history of the world, here's a funny story which reminded me of this frustrating experience. I was at the train station the other day waiting to board a bus to Jerusalem (that's not a mistake (the "bus at the train station" part, not the part about wanting to go to Jerusalem (although some people in Tel Aviv would disagree (no, I'm not getting paid by the parentheses office)))).

So as my friends here know, nothing stresses me out more than waiting to be served: at a government office, a restaurant counter, WHATEVER. The fact that there are NO LINES to clarify who the heck is next combined with my PARANOIA that people around me are going to cut in front of me is unbearable. This stress, however, is relieved when you just miss boarding an inter-city bus with the knowledge that you'll be one of the first to board the next one.

I find myself in this very situation on Monday, surrounded by a group of others including some non-descript woman standing nearby. As the bus comes, the crowd slowly boards one-by-one. As we inch our way to the front, I notice this woman turning her head repeatedly towards me to look at me.

Not really thinking anything of it, I continue inching my way towards the door to the bus until she and I arrive at the narrow entrance at the same time. She says in Hebrew "I think you were before me." Knowing I was getting on either way, I said with a sense of calmness, "That's ok, go ahead, but that's VERY, VERY nice of you. That doesn't happen very often in Israel."
She responds, "I'm not Israeli."

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't know if you had to be there or not, but that was funny.

What is this, a rally?
No, it's a single-file line at the post office.

More fun in Israeli lines