HSBC, Rotherham

A bank opens after you go to work and closes before you finish. The only time to visit then is during your precious lunch break, along with everyone else. Even those who are most certainly unemployed go at lunch time just to piss you off.

As is custom, I joined the back of the queue, and waited impatiently with the sighing men and tutting women while the bank clerks disappeared off to lunch.

Note that the lady in front of me is so angry she has her hands on her hips.

Aware of this lunch time rush HSBC have installed a rather robust riot barrier, made from wood and metal, to stop the queue from storming the counter. Although the queue is so long I am beyond the barrier, HSBC are aware that the English embarrassment of causing a fuss, especially before those who’ve been waiting longer, will prevent me from breaking the queue. 

A fine example of HSBC using local custom to their global advantage. The bastards.

Showroom, Sheffield

This time got the date right and went to see Almodovar’s Volver. Unfortunately every Spanish speaking person in Sheffield had the same idea.

Whenever I join a large queue I’m invariably disappointed that I am at the back of it. Luckily this abates if the queue keeps on growing and I quickly don’t mind so much, except when there’s only three minutes left until the trailers start. Within seconds of standing in the queue I divided its length by the number of staff, two, and had mentally put myself halfway up the queue in a better position.

I also had Anna with me which helped time go faster as we chatted our way to the front. Although I do suffer from English embarrassment and I initially worried about our volume of conversation. I never think about this on the street, or in a shop, or even on public transport, only when I’m in a queue, because I think that those who are silent around me have nothing better to do than to listen to my gabble.

Sainsbury’s at Jacksons, Sheffield

Tesco’s was helping us spend less so we went to buy our beer from Jacksons instead.

It was just about that time on a bank holiday Sunday evening when everybody wants to buy enough beer to drink themselves dead. The queue was growing by the second and so another cashier quickly came on and called the next customer.

We weren’t the next customer but it didn’t matter as this isn’t Marks and Sparks, this is Jacksons. It’s dog eat dog and Gary Wood was a rottweiler. We left our queue and went straight to the new one. Woof.

I’m not sure if the guy was very camera shy, nervous of starting a night shift at jackknife Jacksons, or whether Gary Wood confused him by calling tobacco “tobaccy”, but the pressure got to him and he forgot to scan the beer.

The receipt of deceipt.

Gary Wood said that he sort of realised, but he wasn’t too sure at the time. And it just goes to show, that sometimes queue jumping does pay.

But smoking still kills.

Morrisons at The Barracks, Sheffield

Rather happy at this point. I had barely joined the queue and I was already putting things onto the conveyor belt.

There’s Gary Wood in the dark top, three aisles away, and we both seem to be at the same stage of queuing; all items on belt with time left to study the chewing gums.

The lady serving me wasn’t the happiest, it is bank holiday weekend after all, but the transaction was painless and I was satisfied with the service I got.

Gary Wood was finished at exactly the same time as me.

Don’t be fooled by the smile. No one gets that excited by potatoes and two for two pounds pizza. Gary Wood was decidedly grumpy because his cashier refused him eye contact when she said hello and had taken too long unwrapping the coins for extra change.

Shell Garage near University Tram Stop, Sheffield

Great queue this.

Early on a Saturday morning and we’d all been waiting at least a few minutes just to get on the pumps. There was also only one person on the tills, the other was outside wiping things, so you’d expect there to be a little bit of disgruntlement.

But oh no, none of the usual early morning huffiness and swapping of body weight from foot to foot, unleaded was 92.9p a litre. They could have charged us 94.9p and I would have still been happy if the queue was longer.

Cooplands, Rotherham

All it takes is one person to upset everything. I went into Cooplands at the beginning of the lunch break and was slightly surprised to see that a man was stood halfway up the counter waiting to be served.

He was obviously not a regular, but fortunately for him the lady behind him was. Rather than moving to the far end of the shop, where she would have most definately been served first, she waited behind the man until he had made his order and then calmly walked to the back, with the rest of the queue following and thus order restored. Hooray.

Although this meant that the back of the queue had to wait outside for longer and were not able to ponder over the menu on what to have in their baguettes. Luckily for me, as today is a Thursday, I already knew that I was having chicken tikka with salad.

Nationwide Hole in the Wall, Rotherham

Queues at cashpoints are a marvel. There is no person at the front to govern the queue, just a machine, and yet no one ever attempts to jump the queue despite the huge gap between the front of the line and the next person waiting. Even if it’s very late at night and those waiting are drunk, the line is always sensible and in order.

Cooplands, Rotherham

I’ve been buying my lunch here regularly for over a week now. I did one afternoon buy my lunch from Greggs but I found the queuing to be a bit messy, fractured even.

At Cooplands the counter runs the entire length of the shop, yet each customer is expected to make his order at the rear of the shop. The tradition seems firmly established with the queue always starting at the far end, running along the back wall and sometimes out of the door. This means that you can always see where to join the queue, and those who have made their order can come back along the counter, towards the door, and leave quickly once they have sandwich in hand. Beautifully efficient with everyone sure of their place. Confusion none.

Showroom Cinema, Sheffield

 

I went to the Showroom in the early evening to see a Scanner Darkly. Actually, I went to see Almodovar’s Volva but had got the dates wrong and was a week early. There was no queue when I arrived and after being told my mistake I shared some merriment with the ticket seller, who then listed what films were actually on. As I was being told my choices two young couples walked in and formed the queue. Suddenly the pressures of being at the front of the queue were on me with the fun in choosing a film gone and, despite telling Gary Wood two days earlier that I wasn’t interested in seeing it, I quickly decided to see A Scanner Darkly.

Tesco’s on Ecclesall Road, Sheffield

I still enjoy the novelty of scanning my shopping myself, but I don’t allow myself to enjoy this more than efficiency and so only use self-service if the queues at the peopled checkouts are longer. I was pleased to see that this was the case today and so stood with the three people waiting to use the four self-service checkouts. There is no space for queuing at these checkouts, probably because in their design they were thought to be too efficient for queues, and so those waiting stand in a group and it’s up to you to remember the order.

But just after joining the waiting group, I was quickly ushered off by one of the staff to the cigarette booth where there was “only a small group”. I found this to be very disappointing and wondered if growing groups by the self-service had become a supermarket taboo.