I got stuck in a queue at the post office today. It took up my whole lunch break and more. I didn't even need to get the parcel paid for as it already had postage. I waited because the slot on the post box isn't big enough. When I reached the counter I looked at the woman across and said nothing. She understood.
Then the other six counters opened up.
Oh man-there's something about those winding queues that can drive a man to murderous thoughts- however I think it's worse to be stuck in an Easyjet queue at Bristol airport next to a cackling gaggle of hens on tour . . .
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