The Art of Queueing

A few days ago I had the displeasure of standing in a queue. We were in our local Chemists to collect our prescriptions because we have reached an age where parts of us don’t work as they should. 

It was while standing in this queue that I developed a further condition known as “Queueitus”. A condition that affects around 16.28% of men my age. It is not yet known if women are also affected. When I glanced at Mary stood with me in the queue, she seemed blissfully unaware of the utter, utter bureaucratic nonsense behind making us stand in queues that are out of alignment. 

I remember one queue I stood in for nearly an hour. It was a very orderly queue because it was outside the kit issue store when I joined the army. We had to stand one behind the other. Not slightly behind, or a little bit behind, nor just to the left or right. We had to be EXACTLY behind each other. 

When we stepped forward as the queue moved, we had to take one SINGLE pace. No more. If we got it wrong, we’d be sent to the back of the queue. Our platoon sergeant walked the queue growling unintelligible words at any of us ruining the perfect pattern of human form. 

I made it into the stores. And nearly lost my place. As I stepped forward to the counter, I misaligned my stride and ended up slightly off-centre. 

“OI! You UTTER MORON! Line Up. LINE UP!” Bawled the Quartermaster. I shuffled over to the piece of white tape on the floor. I missed it when I first marched in. 

Then, the exchange with the Quartermaster was the most impressive clothes fitting I had ever and will ever experience. 

“Trouser size?”

“Oh, I’d say 36 long—”

“Bollocks! Medium.”

“Collar size?”

“Er not sure—”

“Right, medium.”

“Hat size?”

“Large?”

He looked at my head. “Fucking planet for a head. Biggest we’ve got.” 

A pile of kit landed in front of me. I scooped it up holding my arms out perfectly horizontal and stepped out into the sun. 

Fast-forward to the Chemist. And I saw the problem. The person behind us was NOWHERE near in the correct position. And the person behind her? Bloody miles off. He was gazing at boxes of tissue on the shelving. WAY out of alignment. 

What is the matter with people? Do they not know how to queue properly? Clearly not. None of the people in the Chemists that day would EVER have got their kit issued. I can tell you that much. 

Mary saw me in a state of stress. She gave me the look. That one she reserves for me and young children misbehaving. I pointed at the ill-formed queue. She raised her eyebrows. I held out my hands in that universal WTF way. She rolled her eyes. And gave me the side-eye. You NEVER want the side eye. 

I had a rather nice piece of red Leicester cheese for my dinner. I went well with the crackers and large mug of tea. 

There is science available regarding my new condition called Queueitus. Professor Cornelius Flynn of the Quantum Uniform Equidistance Unity Establishment (Q.U.E.U.E) said: “Queueitus is a condition that often comes on in later life for men who have experienced formal queueing constructs at some point in their lives and miss the accuracy of it.”

That made me feel better. He went on to explain that the Longitudinal Integrated Nudge Equation (L.I.N.E) protocol should be observed where possible by all people forming a queue. Here, here, professor. 

Right, I’m going to make a mug of tea. I will not form a queue while waiting for the kettle to boil. But should I need to, I will be perfectly aligned with the kitchen sink.