In the teeth of the coronavirus storm, there is one group of people who have been cruelly neglected and whose voices need to be heard.
So can I speak up, please, on behalf of the impatient? I know how they are suffering because I’m one of them.
You see, I just don’t do queues. Never have done.
First of all, there’s the whole having to stand around, wasting time when you can be getting on.
Then there’s the constant scanning of the other folk, making sure no one is going to try to push in ahead of you.
And it drives me to utter distraction when a queue starts to move and the people in front don’t shuffle up. Even worse is when someone waves someone in ahead of them. No, no, no, that’s not how it works.
I have been accused by my nearest and dearest of being prepared to push grannies out of the way to get on to a bus or train. That is an exaggeration. Mostly.
But the whole lollygagging around does my head in.
See also, waiting for food to arrive in a restaurant. Apparently, I am a nightmare to go for a meal with if things don’t arrive at my table in a manner I deem to be timely.
For the record, there is nothing wrong with expecting efficiency when you have paid for a service.
I admit, though, my family might have a point.
I know myself it’s probably not right to get annoyed at microwaves for taking longer to count down from four minutes than I would like or find myself wandering the house with my electric toothbrush in my mouth because I get bored just standing at the bathroom sink for two minutes.
I was bad enough before, so you can imagine what I’m like now. Take, for example, going shopping for picture frames only to be confronted by a lengthy line outside a well-known home store. I was told to just look at my phone and not make a fuss – and certainly not suggest we kick it into touch and try the supermarket across the road.
Then there was the hotel breakfast experience when we did a mini-tour of Scotland for our holiday last week (no London trip for us, thanks to Covid-19).
Firstly, there was the thing about having to book a time slot rather than just fetch up. And there was no buffet joy of loading up a heart attack on a plate with sausage, egg and black pudding. Nope, chef had to put it on for you. Which meant standing in a queue.
And standing. Basically, if you wanted to eat at 9.30am, you had to book a 9am place because that was how long it took to get your food. Grrrr.
However, if we can take any positives from the pandemic, it is the opportunity to learn new ways of looking at life and different ways of doing things.
So, I suppose I should practise the art of going Zen while waiting for someone to take 10 minutes to use hand sanitiser to buy a tin of beans.
It looks like I will just have to hurry up and learn a little patience. Even if I can’t wait for Covid to be over.
Hard to see just what firms can prepare for
In these interesting times, it is hard to find something that can still smack your gob.
But I fair spat my Pringles when I saw the latest bit of Brexit propaganda from Westminster pop up during the ad breaks on the telly.
It’s the one that tells all the businesses in the UK that time is running out for them to get ready for January 1 when the EU transition period ends and we enter the brave new world of Brexit.
Right. So which rules and regulations will we be following then? Because right now, no one knows. Not least the dimwits in Number 10.
Mind you, it seems they have already decided that they’ll have the no-deal option, thanks. Remember? The one the swivel-eyed loons said was unthinkable and would never happen?
So, what are our hard-working companies and firms supposed to prepare for?
I’ll tell you what… getting ready to be blamed when it all goes utterly pear-shaped from January 1.
When food prices rocket, when supply chains break down, when businesses go bust, when jobs are lost, when it all goes to hell in a handbasket. It will all be the fault of those who didn’t pay attention to the adverts telling them to get ready for the unknown.
It won’t be the fault of the blinkered, merciless fools forcing the nation to follow their blind idealogy. Except it will be… and we all need to remember that.
Hornby HQ enjoying a model year
One of the few places where they must be chuffed about lockdown is over at Hornby HQ.
The model railway company has seen its profits soar by 33% over the months of us being shut in.
The firm says their revival is down to folk finding new hobbies. Coming up trumps is the Airfix, the model-making wing of the Hornby.
Nice as it is to see some light, I do have a confession to make.
At no point since March have I been so bored I felt the need to glue bits of plastic together to create a misshapen Spitfire.
And I hope to do right by the fates that I never become quite that sad.