Recently, New York City has been overrun by throngs of sidewalk standers waiting in line to buy plain old frozen yogurt, beautifully illustrating how one person’s “reasonable” can be another person’s “deranged.” Why froyo? Why line up for hours on end for it? Why don’t I understand my fellow man? People will line up for anything in this city, it’s true. There are “Saturday Night Live” sketches about this. There are 13 years’ worth of think pieces about what the culture of the cronut has wrought. Still, none of this explains why some teeny new frozen-yogurt places with socialite names — Mimi’s, Myka, Birdie’s — are drawing as much foot traffic as sample sales or sneaker drops. To answer these questions, the only thing to do was don the largest pair of sunglasses I own and get in line.
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