Ah, the fine British Queue. That damp serpent of stoics, winding through rain and grime like a conga of the condemned. Novice queuer, heed these rules or face tuts from the Queue Gods—pensioners armed with thermoses.
Step 1: Assume the Position
Stand erect, arms folded, eyes on the head ahead. Clutch your basket like a precious relic. If a cutter invades, unleash Polite Aggression: “Excuse me, are you in the queue?”—venom wrapped in vicar-like charm, like stabbing with a feather duster.
Step 2: Master the Trolley Nudge
Your trolley is your steed. When the line stalls (coupons or crises), apply a gentle prod—the trolley nudge! Whisper “Move along” via wheels. Too hard? War. Too soft? Oblivion. Abort near prams to avoid Queue Furies.
Step 3: Swear the Queue Guardianship Oaths
Recite: “I guard my spot like dragon’s gold, tut at jumpers, endure drizzle, and shun gaps lest anarchy reigns.” Bind to the Collective via sighs and eyebrows.
Step 4: Advanced Manoeuvres
Shuffle “accidentally” or chat weather to distract. Beware umbrellas and phones—they shatter the hum of impatience.
Operate with pride: the queue is Britain’s spine—straight and unyielding. And never fear, if it fails, you could always start your own queue.