The queue is already past the bulletin board when you unlock the doors. Enrollment week, the two weeks a year that decide the college's numbers for September, and by all appearances it started without you.
Printer's jammed again. I've got a paperclip in it, don't ask.
You remember the man from Monday, the form, how much time that took and how there was nobody behind him to mind. Today there are eleven people minding, visibly, and the system hasn't even loaded yet.