New Yorkers are always waiting in line for something.
Want a table at Lucali, a pizza restaurant in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, frequented by celebrities? Clear your afternoon to line up early. Craving a pastry from Radio Bakery? Wake up at the crack of dawn because some pastries sell out quickly.
From the pharmacy to a stoop sale, lines in New York City can pop up everywhere, but what happens when it is at your front door?
Avoiding them is part of the routine for Max St. Pierre, a 34-year-old architectural designer, who moved in 2022 to Park Slope. Dripping in sweat, he hauled his stuff out of a U-Haul truck, carrying his bed frame while weaving through the horde of people. He quickly discovered that Miriam, an Israeli restaurant in the storefront of his building, was a major draw.
“It’s pretty much like I open the door and then there’s like bodies in front of me,” he said, adding later: “Even if the line is three people, it feels like it’s 100 people long because it’s in front of my door.”
Rafi Hasid, the owner of Miriam, has tried to lighten the inconvenience for residents like Mr. St. Pierre. After long lines starting popping up around 10 years ago, he decided to open the restaurant an hour earlier on the weekend. Switching to 9 a.m. from 10 has helped them move through tables more quickly. “We try to be very cautious of our neighbors,” he said, encouraging neighbors to alert the restaurant when the line is disruptive so it can “pay more attention.” Mr. St. Pierre noted that the crowds have “been fewer as of late.”
When Printemps, the French department store, opened its New York location in Manhattan’s Financial District, it went a step further to be good neighbor.
Residents who are in the same building at One Wall Street can skip the line — no small gesture since the store had lines down the block on opening weekend. Using an app, residents can either flash a QR code to Printemps’s security at the door or set up special services, like a private shopping appointment or an at-home fitting.
Residents “are now the friend that can get their friends in to skip the line like the hottest clubs,” said Anna Zarro, the president of sales at One Wall Street. “I think there’s a little bit of street cred now that comes with being the person with the app that’s probably fun.”
And yet, conflict ensues in every corner of New York. Stepping out of line. Crossing the line. Drawing the line. Even the slightest annoyance could lead to beef.
Last year, a landlord threatened to evict Apollo Bagels from its location in the West Village, arguing its long lines interfered with nearby businesses. In the East Village, a neighbor recently dumped some water down on to some people waiting in line at Mary O’s Irish Soda Bread Shop, where wait times are over an hour for a scone with jam.
People have been lining up for a taste of the city’s most viral foods for years. After the cronut’s debut in 2013, people lined up on Spring Street in SoHo in the early morning to try and snag one of Dominique Ansel’s hybrid treats.
But today’s crowds outside restaurants, bars and bakeries can often be attributed to social media. Newer platforms like TikTok are full of videos hyping up New York’s “hottest” restaurants. Even some of the less buzzy restaurants still attract lines.
One of those social media darlings is Radio Bakery, which was named one of the best bakeries in the country by The Times last year. Search the bakery on TikTok and Instagram, where you’ll see many influencers and pastry fans showing their hauls.
Radio Bakery opened in 2023 in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Customers swarmed, as the smell of fresh pastries wafted down onto the nearby subway platform. The lines have not dissipated, sometimes snaking halfway down the block, which is just short of a quarter mile long. White signs hang on a tree guard and the gate of a home next door with the same message: “Please respect our neighbors, noise travels. Thanks, Radio Bakery.”
Will Fagan, 44, and his partner moved to the same block the same week that the bakery opened. “You live in New York, and you’re kind of open to, like, New York inconveniences, but it’s not an inconvenience to us,” said Mr. Fagan, who works in music marketing. At least, he’s nearby if he wants a pastry and can check if the line is long, but he tries not to go too often, only a few times a month. (His favorite is the cheesy pretzel bear claw.)
Proximity to pastries is not the only perk. An entrepreneurial teenager living near Radio Bakery started a stoop sale, selling clothes and toys to people in line.
When Radio Bakery opened a second location in Prospect Heights, Brooklyn, the crowds followed. On opening day, the line bent the corner and snaked around 200 feet. Wait times were well over an hour that day, and staff were passing out hot chocolate to those queuing in the cold. At the new location, barriers were installed six feet from the entrance “to make sure that the line wouldn’t go directly in front of people’s apartments or businesses in the direction the line went,” said Ben Howell, a partner and the director of operations at Radio Bakery.
“It forces the line to be six feet away from the frontage of other buildings, so that there’s no situation where someone has someone right in front of them when they get out,” Mr. Howell said. He noted that they’ve been in touch with the businesses on the same block where the line extends.
As many New Yorkers can attest, a line can be bothersome for people who don’t necessarily live directly next to it.
Julia Feingold, 27, lives in an area of Greenpoint that she described as “pretty quiet” until last October, when Chrissy’s Pizza arrived with its much-anticipated brick-and-mortar shop, which is around a 3-minute walk from her apartment. The lines followed. In March, hordes of people lined up at Chrissy’s for a collaboration with Benny Blanco and Selena Gomez to promote their new album.
“On the first few days it was open, I was like, ‘Oh my God, there are 30 people waiting on this block that usually no one is at,’” said Ms. Feingold, a graphic designer.
The Citi Bike station in front of the pizza shop is now sometimes inaccessible, which makes grabbing or putting away a bike — her main way of getting around — a chore. People, she said, will either wait for their pizzas on the bikes or eat them there, and she’s had to shoo them away to grab a bike. Other times, she has an audience while putting on her helmet and gloves. “I just have 30 strangers staring at me, which is cool,” she said, laughing.
Chris Hansell, the owner of Chrissy’s Pizza, said the Citi Bike station is accessible from the street and noted that the line blocking its neighbors “has not been an issue.”
“I just haven’t seen an issue where anybody was blocked from accessing a Citi Bike,” he said, adding later, “We’re a tiny shop — only like five, six people can really sit in there at a time to order and then they just have no choice but to wait outside because we serve full pies at my spot, and they take 10, 15 minutes to cook.”
Although she’s eager to try it, Ms. Feingold still hasn’t been to Chrissy’s, mainly because of the line.
Mr. St. Pierre has been to Miriam and its takeout location next door a handful of times, but he’s not “a big brunch guy.” He has tolerated the lines for three years now because his rent is affordable and he likes the area. “I’ve had some hit apartments and some miss apartments, and I feel like it’s one of these things that it doesn’t bother me enough to make me move,” he said.
He compared it to another classic New York experience: When you find a mouse in your apartment, he said, you learn to live with it.
Of course, as New Yorkers know, there’s never just one.
Matt Yan is a real estate reporter for The Times and a member of the 2024-25 Times Fellowship class, a program for journalists early in their careers.
The post Why Is There Always a Line? And Why Is It at My Front Door? appeared first on New York Times.
