He Couldn’t Wait The Last Seven Feet
I’m queueing to get into a popular discount store. I’m picking up cleaning supplies and canned goods for my in-laws, who, unfortunately, are suffering from that worldwide bug that’s been doing the rounds.
The wait is ridiculous, and the queue is halfway around the carpark, but they are doing the right thing by restricting the amount of people going in at one time.
After a long, long wait, I am about five people from the entrance. A couple exit the shop, but they are not allowing any more people in. I can overhear the conversation.
Security Guard: “Just need to wait a little longer, folks.”
Customer: “But they just came out.”
Security Guard: “Yes, but the first aisle is busy. We need to allow it to clear first.”
Customer: “I’m not buying anything from that aisle; just let me through.”
Security Guard: “I’m afraid you will have to wait a little longer.”
A few more minutes pass, and still, the queue doesn’t move.
Customer: “This is f****** ridiculous! Why can’t you let us in?!”
Security Guard: “It won’t be much longer now.”
Customer: “I’ve had enough of this!”
He pushed past the security guard and went into the shop. The security guard looked about retirement age, so he didn’t try to stop him. He said something on his radio and then asked everyone to wait. He seemed very flustered.
Before too long, some other security guards turned up, but they didn’t look like they could do much, until the last one arrived; he must have been nearly seven-feet tall and had a scowl. He went into the shop and returned with the man from earlier who was suddenly a lot less mouthy.