While in line, a man, who I swear, was Cuba Gooding Junior (or his twin), came up and asked where the end of the line was.
He was shown, and Cuba, who must not have liked the look of the line (neither did we), suddenly felt like he needed to greet a friend closer to the front of the line. He didn't greet us. We were too far back.
"I bet he cuts." said Dustan (because he is ten year old and it felt like a school cafeteria line).
Ten minutes later, Mr Gooding was still chatting with his friend. 15 minutes later he was getting cash.
"He cut." said Dustan.
"Get over", I replied. This is Ecuador. Lines mean nothing. If we want money, we have to learn to pretend we know someone at the front of the line.
Cuba got his money, turned around, waved at the entire line...
I kid you not...
De nada Cuba. De nada.