When Waiting Doesn't Feel Like Waiting

One of the things I used to worry about was "Will there be a line?"

It's a fair question. Nobody wants guests spending half the event standing around waiting for their turn.

For a long time, I assumed the same thing.

Long lines must be bad.

But after more than a hundred events, I started noticing something that didn't fit that assumption.

People don't seem to mind waiting nearly as much as I expected.

People happily wait for roller coasters.

They wait outside barbecue restaurants.

They camp overnight for concert tickets.

Golfers spend half their day waiting on tee boxes.

Apparently, waiting isn't automatically a bad experience.

So what makes one line miserable and another perfectly enjoyable?

One of my favorite moments to watch happens before someone ever takes their first putt.

The people waiting aren't really waiting.

One event stands out.

In December of 2023 we were part of USAA's Christmas party at the San Antonio Convention Center. More than 9,000 people attended—the largest event we've ever been part of.

Walking in through the loading dock, I passed what looked like an endless sea of banquet tables. There were buffet lines stretching across the room, an enormous screen that still looked small from the farthest tables, and enough activity that it felt like a small city was being assembled indoors.

luckly, we were set up upstairs alongside photo booths, arcade games, another mini golf course, an open bar, and one attraction I still can't explain: four men dressed as cowboys, painted completely from head to toe. I thought they were a little creepy.

People loved them. They lined up to have their pictures taken with them.

The Creepy Cowboys

Fortunately, people were lining up for mini golf, too.

In fact, they lined up longer than I ever expected.

At one point I realized we had a problem I'd never seen before. Every putter and golf ball had been claimed—not by the people at the first tee, but by people halfway back in line.

I had to walk down the queue collecting equipment so the people at the front could actually start playing.

Looking at the line, I estimated the guests at the very back might wait nearly half an hour before taking their first putt.

This is the front of the line. Imagine two or three more of these twisting off to the right

I remember thinking, They're going to hate this.

They didn't.

Not one bit.

They had music, friends, people-watching, a fresh drink from the open bar, and plenty to laugh about while they watched the groups ahead of them play.

That's when it occurred to me that they weren't really waiting.

The experience had already started.

Once I started noticing that, I began seeing it at other events.

People don't mind waiting around a campfire because the stories have already begun.

Nobody complains about standing beside the grill at a backyard barbecue because that's where the conversations happen.

Even the line for coffee at work often becomes the place where people catch up on each other's lives.

Maybe the waiting was never separate from the experience.

Maybe it was part of it all along.

That's changed the way I think about events.

The goal isn't necessarily to eliminate every line.

It's to eliminate dead time.

Those aren't the same thing.

At the best events, people are always watching, anticipating, laughing, or talking. Even when they're technically waiting, they don't feel like they're waiting because something interesting is unfolding right in front of them.

I've started to think that's true far beyond parties.

We spend a surprising amount of our lives in lines—at airports, grocery stores, doctor's offices, traffic lights, and meetings. Some of those moments feel endless, not because they're long, but because nothing meaningful is happening while we're there.

The events we remember aren't always the ones where everything happened immediately.

They're the ones where something was happening the entire time.

The problem isn't the line.

It's what happens while you're in it.