I finally lost it and literally dove ahead of a woman who was cutting in front of me in the express line at the supermarket.

In the West, we learn from an early age the Rule of the Queue. When a limited number of people are providing services to an unlimited number of people, those wising to be served form an orderly line. The first person in the line is the first one to come out. In certain academic circles, this is known as a FIFO queue, or First In First Out queue. It is an indelible, unquestionable truth, and those who violate it are severely chastised, threatened, and otherwise persecuted.

Unfortunately, things are done differently in Asia. The aforementioned academic circles would have a difficult time identifying the different sorts of queues, or clusters, as they could be called here. I propose the following two, either of which would make a good topic for further study as a doctoral thesis.

• FTMECWTVO. This is the First To Make Eye Contact With The Vendor Out cluster, and is about the most orderly one can hope for. Being the first in has no correspondence with leaving the cluster. The only hope is to catch the vendor’s eye. The vendor will often, but not always, look at somebody who is relatively close to him. But, since it is a cluster (and not a queue), there are no rules against stepping in front of anyone, or getting the vendor’s attention even if you are behind someone. It can be statistically shown that farangs who do not speak Thai may never leave this kind of cluster if the vendor deliberately avoids their gaze.

• FTGTMIFOTVFO. This is the dreaded First To Get Their Money In Front Of The Vendor’s Face Out cluster. It can be a difficult cluster to identify, and may appear to be a simple FIFO queue. Until somebody sneaks in from the side and sticks their money in front of the vendor’s face. I was once waiting in what I thought was an orderly FIFO queue, behind a little old lady, until another little old lady came out of nowhere and maneuvered her money in front of the first little old lady’s money.

But did the first little old lady mind? Of course not! This is Thailand! Mai bpen rai, or “it doesn’t matter,” as the Thais say about pretty much everything. Thais are too laid back to care. Plus, a Thai is never in a hurry, so who cares if somebody gets in front of them?

If a farang wants to retain his sanity, it’s best to adopt this same attitude. Generally, I don’t have too much of a problem with it. In fact, there’s an element of guilt associated with it. If I don’t know the Thai words to indicate what I want, it’s only fair that the vendor ignores me, right? Note that this usually isn’t too much of a problem, and vendors will try to accommodate farangs. Eventually.

But that fateful night at the supermarket was too much for me. Yes, the supermarket, bastion of Westerness, with wide gleaming aisles, packed with Thais aimlessly milling about, and girls noisily hawking free samples over loudspeakers. So not exactly Western, but close enough to lull me into complacency.

As I got into the express line, I was excited to note that while there were three cashiers, there was only one line, with a railing indicating that it was one line. “Ah yes,” I said to myself “one entrance, multiple exits. The most efficient form of queue. The wait should be short indeed.”

Then a woman cut in front of me, to get to the second cashier, who wasn’t quite finished with his current customer. “But… F… I… F… O…,” I muttered. Then another woman started to jockey past me, to try to get to the third cashier, who wasn’t quite finished with his customer. Something snapped inside me. “FIFO!” I shouted, shoving her aside, and claiming my rightful place.

I didn’t even say khao toot kap, or “excuse me.”

The cashier smiled and laughed nervously. Then sanity returned, and I realized the folly of my rash actions. The woman still doesn’t have the foggiest notion of what a queue is. All I succeeded in doing was making a scene. A Thai would never dream of making a scene.

What’s a farang to do?

Adopt the Thai national motto. Mai bpen rai.