Possumblog

A Nation of Pushalongs and Queuejumpers!?

I would have thought it of anyone except the British. What has happened to that place!?

I am just now returned from my noonday hunting and gathering, after having stopped by the Wall Street Deli in the AmSouthRegionsHarbertPlaza. It was late-lunchish, and it is a Friday, so there weren't that many patrons milling about, but after getting my foam dinner plate and proceeding to the salad bar, I sensed someone to my right.

Now I'm not a particularly slow gatherer of salad objects, but after looking up and seeing a average woman of average height and weight and hair length and age anxiously gathering up lettuces and onions and tomatoes, well, frankly I felt pressured. Rushed, almost. And she was standing so danged close to me. I need elbow room, you know? I don't want anyone interfering with my spoon and tong action. And you get that creepy sense that she's paying more attention to what I'm putting on my plate than what she's putting on hers.

What's yer deal, there, toots!?

I wanted so much to make sure my selection of garbanzos and ham cubes was done properly, and that they were each arranged as artfully and efficiently as possible within the nest of greens I'd created, yet I felt her breathing down my side. I'd put down an implement and she'd reach over and grab it right back up.

I was going as fast as any decent person could be expected, and yet I couldn't shake her until I rounded the corner and stopped for some jalapenos. She raced around me to the other longer side of the bar, and I breathed a sigh of relief to be rid of this tailgater, even though I was still shocked at her presumption that it was acceptable to pass without even signalling!

She'd moved on to the sunflower seeds and croutons and prepared pasta salads as I eased on around the corner to the dressings. I got the dipper and placed a suitable amount of bleu cheese liquid on my salad, and then looked up to see that SHE'D GONE BACK AROUND AGAIN! That's right--she was back round to the other side getting some more tomatoes! I was about to GET LAPPED!

The one good thing is that since she was making the circuit again, I was able to sprint to the cashier and get paid for before she further disturbed me.

It was then that she revealed herself.

I heard the distinctive dialect of England, asking of the staff, "Where is the hot wartah for the tea?" I could hardly believe it--all that time I was very nearly being bump-drafted by one of the Queen's subjects! This is not the England to which I am accustomed! A place where protocols are followed decently and quietly! But here she was, rambling about the place as if she were, were--a pushy YANKEE!

Simply intolerable.

Posted by Terry Oglesby at May 4, 2007 01:28 PM