As a follow-up to Seth Godin’s Linchpin, I’ve been probing my life for linchpin moments I might have had. If you’re not familiar with the book, I can only advise you to order it: It will most likely change you in a subtle but strong way. If you need a little bit more convincing, go read the the manifesto (okay, if you really need more convincing, go to Amazon and check out the raving reviews, or head over to Seth’s blog to know more about what the Man is about).

Anyway, there was this one time I was at the movie theater:

I was definitely late, and my movie was about to start. Only one register opened, maybe 30 people ahead of me, this wasn’t looking good. As I was (not-so-patiently) waiting, I checked out the schedule: 3 movies were starting in the next few minutes, while the rest didn’t start for another half-hour. Based on people’s attitude, you could definitely tell the ones in line for a movie that was about to start apart from the ones who weren’t in a hurry.

And then this clerk came up the line, asking people if they intended to pay by card; if they did, he’d take them away to another counter and would speed things up, which was a good idea (whether if was a spontaneous one or not). However, using the means of payment seemed like a somewhat irrelevant criteria. What he could/should have done, is simply walk up to people and ask them what movies they were about to see; if it wasn’t about to start, politely ask them if they’d mind waiting 10 minutes to help expedite things for those in a hurry.

And you know what, I could have done it, too. But we’re not used to putting ourselves on the line like this, and I just waited, hoping the situation would somehow fix itself. It didn’t, and I missed my movie. And this is an important shortcoming: to put it in Seth’s own words, a linchpin doesn’t simply think outside of the box, he acts out of the damn box.

Guess I’ll have to wait for the next occasion to pin an orange lizard to my chest.