HOW WAS the New Year morning for you?
Some might have woken up with a thick head; others, who didn’t overdo some enchanting produce from the left bank, might have enjoyed that delicious moment when one is caught ‘twixt Morpheus and reality, before blinking and realising that they were still denizens of the People’s Republic of Britain.
This is a land where 10-year plans, hapless apparatchiks, faceless bureaucrats, overbearing jobsworths, crumbling infrastructure and unchecked crime are everyday realities; a land where inadequacy and incompetence are virtues worthy of recognition and veneration; a land where Sir Keir, Kemi and Ed decide what the put-upon electorate really need to perk them up: sanctimonious homilies about change, all delivered with the sincerity of a practised card shark plying his trade on unsuspecting victims.
Yet plucky Albions, be not downhearted! Sip from the chalice of sustenance, where there remain a few smouldering remnants of identity that, like DNA, make us what we are. Britons can still proudly boast to be world-beaters on disparate, yet oddly unifying, fronts.
For example, despite competition from overseas, Britain can still lay claim to the coveted crown of the underrated yet admirable art of queuing.
Be it in the informal setting of a self-checkout at the supermarket, the more high-pressured environment of airport check-ins, the sombre line at the pharmacy, or the formal crocodile file at the bank, we Britons truly embody Olympian ideals.
Queuing exemplifies what separates us Brits from our continental cousins, marking us out as masters in this field. It might be acceptable in France to pass time waiting in line at the boulangerie, idly chit-chatting with fellow customers. In Blighty, such an egregious breach of our strict, yet uncodified, protocol would generate either short shrift, a verbal non-committal grunt, or, worse still, a silent censorious stare.
Experienced British queuers are always worth watching as recognised experts of this discipline. Novice queuers would do well to study these virtuosos, learning to adopt their award-winning gambits and strategies.
Check-in desks at budget airlines are an ideal location to pick up tips. Whilst ‘Speedy Boarders’ and‘PriorityPassengers’ stand patiently and uncomplainingly in line, seasoned veterans will quietly bide their time on chairs near the front of the queue, before judging the right time to sidle up once boarding has commenced.
Whilst there are no written rules as such, etiquette dictates that this display is met simply with a raised eyebrow, or a theatrical yet whisper-quiet tut.
Now seasoned recipients of third-world services, Britons do not need their latent queuing-desire sated only by passively participating in the physical waiting-arena, especially when other more challenging and varied avenues are open to them. Who, for instance, cannot but savour the myriad opportunities afforded by technology, allowing us patient Brits to revel in our national pastime and hone our skills from the comfort of our own home?
What could be better than making a cup of tea, putting your feet up, and forgetting your troubles while being soothed by these anxiety-busting mantras:
Your call is important to us…
We are experiencing a high volume of calls at this time…
All our operators are currently busy on other calls…
Answers to many questions can be found on our website…
As well as the old-fashioned and perennial favourite:
You are number 42 in the queue…
Fledgling queuers often fail to grasp the enormity of these solemn expressions. Quite easily, they fall into the fatal trap of getting irritable, thereby negating any substantive progress in gaining practical experience from the outside world.
Other tell-tale signs of relapse include cursing, wild and inappropriate gesticulation, and – a true novice’s mistake – slamming the receiver down with force while simultaneously emitting an audible scream.
Patience, as they say, is a virtue; these days, it helps if you are a saint!
