I have a hangover. I want to make people feel as bad as I do. There is nothing worse than standing in a queue that is not moving, so I get behind the counter.
A fat blonde with bright red lipstick steps up to the counter with an amaryllis and smiles at me. I ignore her. Her makeup and mascara will run before she gets served.
A couple of kids, hot in winter suits joins the queue behind her. I give them a John Wayne salute, and a smile, then pretend to be looking for something under the counter. I am going to make them sweat.
A thin stick of a man with a couple of small iciles hanging from his moustache gets behind the kids. He is struggling to hold a slippery 20kg bag of peat. That bag is going to get heavier. I find a ball of string that has been unravelled and I stand and look at the growing queue and begin to wind the loose end of the string up into a ball. I whistle while I work.
A fat porker in a bomber jacket joins the back of the queue. He is hopping from foot to foot. Fit to fart, or pressured for a pish. He will have to exert extreme bladder and sphincter control, because this queue is not moving. I pick up a pile of receipts and begin to feed numbers into a calculator. I ignore the lot of them.
"Excuse me could we have some service?" says the porker at the back of the queue.
"What?" I say pretending I haven't heard him.
He shifts his weight from one leg to the other. I guess he is trying not to fart. Not in a public place, and especially not in a queue.
"I said..." and he leans forward and lets one rip, "Can we have some service?"
Everyboby turns around and looks at him. He gets embarrassed. When somebody is dangling on a hook like that you don't let them off easy. So I said.
"Did you just make that monsterous fart? That god awful smell that's polluting the shop and causing the plants to wilt?"
"Never mind who did what... how about some service?
"Sorry mate, no can do"
"What do you mean, no can do"
"The till"
"The till, what's wrong with the till"
"Nothing... it's just that I am not allowed to use it. Boss doesn't trust me because of my criminal record"
"Well get someone who can operate the till"
"Ok Ok, keep your shirt on"
I go off to the coffee room and pour myself a coffee and sit down and read the newspaper. Outside the queue gets longer. Uno comes in and I say to him.
"Go out and serve the customers at the till"
"But you know I don't do maths, and the boss wont let me on the till"
"Just get out there and serve the customers until that queue is finnished"
Uno slouches out to the counter to serve the customers.
I feel better already.
