Queue or self-serve?

Express lane or slow lane?

I had to go into the shopping centre on Saturday morning. New Year's Eve is not a good time to be there but I needed to go to the chemist for an elderly neighbour who had managed to get to the doctor the day before but had not managed to get the prescription filled.

"I'm sorry Cat. I just couldn't face it. Does it matter if I don't....?" 

I growled and said, "Yes, it does matter and I will go and do it now. What's the point of going to see the doctor if you don't do as they tell you? What else do you need?"

Milk, bread, carrots, some fruit...

I went off thinking it wouldn't be a bad idea to get some more milk for myself as well. 

The chemist shop was busy and I knew I would need to wait. I passed in the script and went to the supermarket. It was packed. I don't think I have ever seen it quite that busy, not even on a Christmas Eve.  I grabbed a small trolley that someone else was just abandoning and went in. 

I know where to find most things. It really took very little time to do that. At that point I realised there was a problem, a big problem. The supermarket has an "express lane". Most of the time this is for "fifteen items or less" but it was now saying "eight items or less"and I had eleven. I heard someone else arguing about this. They were not going to win.  The express checkout queue stretched to the other side of the shop. The "self-serve" lines (there were two) looked every bit as bad and I am not any good at the self-serve anyway.

And there were just two staffed checkouts open. I eyed these off and joined the one I thought might be the shortest. (It had more people but less things in each trolley.) There are four more checkouts that can be used by staff in the supermarket. None of them showed any signs of being opened. I heard someone asking a passing staff member.

"Oh no. We can't do that. Nobody else is rostered on for it. If you want to get through quickly use express or self-serve."

We stood in line. People kept joining all the queues. I could see glares. One person even unloaded their groceries at an unmanned checkout and tried to demand it open. They had to repack their groceries into the trolley. No other checkout would be opened. 

The woman ahead of me took out a pack of individual ice cream bars and rushed back to the freezer section. She returned a few moments later saying, "I don't care. They were going soft. Even in the cool bad they would be melted by the time I got home." I could hardly blame her.

Tempers were fraying. I was nice to the check out lad. He looked harassed and it was not his fault. It had taken me twenty-three minutes to pay for the groceries. 

I prowled back to the chemist as quickly as I could. On the way I saw my GP with an overloaded trolley. She looked as if she had just won a battle. Maybe she had.

"Have a great weekend Cat!" she called out to me as we passed.

"You too," I replied. I suspect her cheerfulness was born of relief. We were out of there.

But I think I might write a polite but very firm letter to the manager and say, "Unless you drop your prices you need to put more staff at the checkout." It probably won't do any good - unless perhaps enough people do the same thing?