Queue Rage

Yesterday was the dreaded day of account payments. I made the monthly pilgrimage to the bank to draw money for payment of accounts. What made it worse yesterday was that I had only gotten to bed at 3 am on Saturday morning - thanks to a work function which spilled over to the nearby local pub and many rounds of shouters.

So I was feeling rather droopy eared and cranky come 8:30 am yesterday morning. Joined the throng at the doors of the bank. The minute those doors open, its every man for them self as you barge, push, shove and hiss your way to the best position in the queue. I was fortunate that I managed to get a fairly decent position - only landed up waiting 40 minutes to get to the teller!! To top it off, it was humid and there were flies everywhere. So you stand and sweat like a pig - in my case I look like an overcooked tomato bathed in sweat. Not the most glamorous I've ever looked. By the time I got to the top of the queue, my legs had no feeling in them and I was feeling rather flat eared. Finally! I get to the teller with my list only to be told that the computers are offline and they cannot process anything.

Aaahhhhh!!