Me.
I never learn to say "No".
I was in my village Post Office today. I had a few parcels to send out - 6 or 7 items - and I stood in the queue with my arms full. It wasn't really a queue - just the one person in front.
This
one person was acting like it was their first ever outing in a long while, let alone to a PO.
They were exclaiming things like "oh really?", "how much?", "which form do I fill in?", "and how long have you worked here, dear?", "oh! I wish I had brought my glasses with me", "how do I do that?".
After about 10 minutes I had taken root. (And drugs if I had been offered any...)
But I was determined not to be wound-up by this "antique" of a person in front. Not allow my spirit to waiver....
Soon another un-suspecting customer had joined the queue. I turned round at some point and gave them the "oh, we have a right one here" look.
A few more agonising minutes later, the individual behind me said to me "I only came in here for a few first class stamps! Typical!"
More minutes passed.
Eventually, finally the old fossil in front stopped interrogating the PO person about their life & times, todays weather, tomorrows weather; and zimmered themselves away.
Now I was
about to step up to the Holy Grail when person behind said (with convincing panic) "would you mind if I just nipped in front of you for my stamps? I'll be be very quick....!"
At this point my gut reaction, my inner instinct, was almost screaming "HELL NO!" and wanting to
off about "a queue is a queue and what the f*ck did they expect when they walked into a PO - rose-petals thrown down as they walked up to the counter with free champagne on the side!!...."
But what did I say? "Yes. Of course". "Please do." Feeling suddenly guilty about my arms full of parcels.
This
person then pulls out about 12 -15 cards (Easter I'm guessing) - all of different sizes - all needed weighing - all going anywhere but the UK.
I must have waited another 10 minutes. At least.
F*ck me. NEVER again. NEVER. (Why can't I say NO!?)
over