Queues are such a waste of our time
It is true that as I get older, I get more impatient. Not that I was particularly blessed with the patience of the proverbial saint when I was younger.
I needed to go to the Post Office recently. Mistake number one was that it had moved from where I thought it was, six months earlier.
I had to go at lunchtime. That was how that particular day played out. Mistake number two. It was crowded, ridiculously and stupidly crowded.
There were seven counters, three manned, well two were manned and one was womanned (I think I may have created a new politically correct word).
The queue was long. No, it was longer than that.
Eventually, after around 10 minutes, there were fewer than a dozen people in front of me squeezed between two aisles of the shop in which the mighty Post Office had cuckoo-nested itself.
Another woman emerged from the door on the other side of the counter to serve. Well, firstly she had to chat with another ‘server’.
Eventually it was my turn and I was politely dealt with.
I wanted to call the manager and explain the basics of good management and planning, like having plenty of tills available at peak times and all those hard-to-grasp concepts of customer service.
Not that it is only the Post Office. It’s the same in your bank. Only two (if you are lucky) tellers on duty. The remaining service is via a series of machines.
And if you are lucky enough to do the supermarket shopping, you always go to the queue that ends up being the slowest moving.
Someone should do a thesis on the amount of time wasted in queues. I think that would be a great project. If only I had the time …