You know those "express" lanes

don't you? No, not the express lanes on the freeways and autobahns of this world, nor the express lanes for buses but the "express" lanes in supermarkets. You know the sort of lane I mean. It is the lane you go to if you have just a few items and you want to get out of the supermarket quickly.
I always want to get out of the supermarket quickly but I don't always qualify for the "express" lane. Often there is nothing particularly express about it anyway. If there is just one person serving there then half a dozen people with half a dozen items can take as long to serve as someone with almost a trolley full elsewhere.
I had more than twelve items but the other checkouts were busy and, for once, there was nobody in the express lane so the girl on duty waved me over.
            "I can do that for you Cat," she told me.
I thanked her and began to unload my fourteen items. Someone else arrived just as she started to scan my items.
I could sense trouble coming up and I think she could too. We looked at one another.
Yes, he counted.
          "That was fourteen items! You shouldn't be here. You should go over there. You're queue jumping!"
          "There was nobody waiting here sir. I offered to serve the customer."
          "I don't care. You aren't supposed to do it!"
He kept up an angry commentary all the time I was paying for my shopping.
As I left he slammed down his three items. He wanted to pay with his credit card. He could not get the credit card to work. 
It is very naughty of me but I really could not feel sorry for him.