Queuing at GITEX: The Limits of Technology

I pre-registered for GITEX and received a bar-coded form, which I carefully brought with me. Upon entering the door, I saw an empty teller and gave her my €20, and received a receipt that said 'PAID.'

I then waved my form at one of the people directing traffic, and was directed to the queue for people who had pre-registered. There were about twenty people in the queue, which moved at a speed similar to the speed at which continents drift.

After about three-quarters of an hour, I was second in line, and then I saw what had been happening as the man in front of me tried to obtain his entry permit:

'Welcome to GITEX. Are you pre-registered?' asked the teller.
'Yes.'
'Could I please see your registration receipt?'
'I forget it.'
'Do you have your registration number?'
'I forget it.'
'Could I please have your name?'

The young lady was very courteous about all this. I didn't hear the name, but she said,

'I'm very sorry, but I can't find your name. Are you sure you pre-registered?'
'Yes, I pre-registered. I wait in this line forever. Now give me entry permit.'

At this point, it was clear to everyone that the lying excrescence who had been directly in front of me in the queue had not pre-registered. He had either seen that the queue for pre-registered attendees was shorter than the regular queue, or he'd wandered into it by accident. In any case, the culture here, like that of former President Clinton, is, when caught red-handed, to vehemently deny any wrong doing.

Unlike my own approach, shortly before being dismissed from a similar job as the courteous young lady's, which is to say, 'Get out of the pre-registered line, you lying excrescence,' she continued to be very courteous.

'Perhaps your name is misspelled. Is there any other way you could have spelled it?'

This went on for about fifteen minutes, until a manager, concerned at the speed at which the queue was moving, came over to see what was going on.

'My friend pre-register me under another name.'
'We're very sorry, but you must register under the name on your ID.'
'I in this line one hour, you register me now.'
'Sorry.'

By now, a couple of large bouncers were visible, but they didn't have to do anything except to be visible, and the irate man preceding me finally went to the correct queue.

I handed the young lady my bar-code, and in 10 seconds I had my entry permit.

Total time: 1 hour 10 seconds.

The best technology can't overcome the local (or, for that matter, the Arkansas) culture.

But at least Dubai, unlike Arkansas, does have the technology, for what it's worth.