HELL, WITH KNOBS ON

On friday, I needed to go into the centre of the city to buy train tickets for a visit to Derbyshire, move some money, pay a couple of bills, and force myself (ha ha) to buy something to wear.

I hate shoppping.

I hate crowds.

I forgot it was December and the Christmas feeding frenzy has started.

First stop the Railway station to get the ticket. At least 15 people in the queue. One look at that and I turned around and decided to go back later.

Next stop the Building society - no queue. Whoohoo!

Next stop Boots, to get a top up for my 3 phone. Very very large queue, I waited, and waited (yawn) waited some more. Got the receipt thingy with the code on (they don't do swipe cards), stuffed it in my bag and escaped.

Clothes shop. Picked up what I wanted, stood at the till and waited, and ******ing waited. Hopped about a bit, had a look at some other stuff and then waited and waited some more.

Bank of Scotland to pay a Bank of Scotland credit card bill. Must have been 25 people in this queue. I waited and listened to that electronic voice - Counter 3 please, Counter 1 please, every time a teller pushed a button having dealt with a customer. We all shuffled forward at the sound of the voice. Did I not see a science fiction film once with this particular scene in, but weren't they queuing for their pills? By the time I've shuffled to my destination at the counter the terminal boredom will have me begging for a pill. Finally, I get there to be told I can't pay in the bank, it will have to be posted - Christ on a bloody bike!

To the Post Office then, to get a stamp to post it with. Yet another electronic voice system and a queue snaking off round several barrier thingies. Rather than make a show of myself in public by tearing my hair out by the roots at the thought of another obligatory shuffle towards another sheet of security glass with some other poor sod behind it wishing it was 5 pm on Christmas eve, I leave and decide to do it another time. Charge me a late payment fee you bastards - I don't care.

Marks & Spencers for a nice "ping" meal. Chaos would be an understatement, but I am determined to get my Gastropub Beef whatsit with wild rice. Grasping my dinner I wait in yet another long queue. I'm getting older by the minute.

Back to the Railway station. The queue is still the same, for crying out loud. But, lo and behold, no electronic voice. I think I may survive this one, at least I can shuffle on my own terms.

Twenty minutes later - "I'd like an open return for Monday morning to Chesterfield, leaving on the GNER train at 7.55am and changing at York please"., said I smiling through gritted teeth. "That's OK, the man said, but there are works on the line so you'll have to get a bus to Edinburgh first and pick the train up there" Edinburgh is at least 3 hours from here; I could feel a howl welling up inside me ready to burst out. "Oh, I replied, so, when will the train run again from here?". "Not till Tuesday, love". "Fine, I snarled, I'll go on Tuesday instead". "That will be £108.00 then." he smiled. The chiselling bastards.

On the way home I remembered a piece I had read that morning on line:-

Man urinated on cash till

US police are hunting a man who stood on a conveyor belt and urinated on a till at a supermarket.
Witnesses said the man was standing in line at the check out at a ShopRite store in Chester, New York state.
He suddenly climbed on the belt, took out his penis and urinated on the till, reports the Times Herald Record.
Police responded to a report of indecent exposure but were unable to find the man who fled before startled staff and shoppers could act.
ShopRite officials called it an unfortunate incident and said the register was cleaned and disinfected immediately.

I know why he did it.

Kats (snuggled up in a straight jacket):0(