Saturday 30th January: The Post Office queue

My fear of looking stupid meant this picture, of a Post Office queue, is blurry. There were so many people around so I just took a quick shot, and moved too soon. As I've written previously, I need to get over it, otherwise my blog will be a series of blurry pictures, which only equals a blurry memory, which defeats the whole object of this project.

Back to The Post Office Queue - and you've gotta love it. You get a mixture of the 'oldies': the pensioners who you can't help but make you mutter to yourself: 'You've got all the time in the world to come to the post office, why do you come on a Saturday when those people who work in the week need to use it?'; you've got those who walk in, take one look at the queue, and then walk out again; you've got those who make sure they are getting as close to the front as possible by standing right up against you; and there are those, like me really, who just enjoy observing human behaviour while in a queue.

The queue always looks longer than it actually takes in minutes: two rows of people really only equate to about 6-7 minutes, now that isn't that long is it?

What I can't abide, and what I also experienced today after the orderliness of the post office, was a long queue because there was just one guy serving. A guy (always a guy isn't it?) came up behind me and shouted out to the cashier: 'Are you the only one serving? Can you get someone else?'

You may find this a harmless couple of questions, but this guy was a twat and clearly has a job and a home life where everything just happens to him when he wants it.

You can probably guess, another cashier came along and asked for the next customer. Sure enough, twat-man sprinted across to be first served. A voice, which I realised was mine, shouted: 'Excuse me, can you let this woman go first as she's been waiting in the queue longer than you have ...' He didn't hear it, so the voice repeated the question.

It was as if he'd been completely oblivious to everyone else around him, as if we all liked standing in a line waiting.

The lady thanked me and took her rightful place.

I hate queues, I don't particularly like orderliness, but pig ignorance is something truly detestable.

If we can be polite enough to form a queue, surely we can be polite enough to respect those in it?

This blog is dedicated to the pig in the queue today: may you read it and be more considerate in future.