I Live In New York City
You meet a truly democratic sampling of humanity on the line for the bathroom at Starbuck's. (That's queue to you, Anglomates.) And, even more fascinatingly, they talk to you while you all stand there waiting to evacuate waste.
Moments ago the woman ahead of me regaled me at length with a description of why she can't drink coffee (she did not scruple to employ the word 'laxative'), under what circumstances she will, notwithstanding, drink coffee, what kind of coffee she prefers when such circumstances obtain, and where she is accustomed to purchase said coffee. All while assiduously cleaning her ears with Q-Tips (= cotton buds, dears) from a huge box she had just purchased at the pharmacy next door.
At one point she turned her head to look out the window and gesture for emphasis, and then kept on talking, leaving the Q-Tip sticking unsupported out of her ear.