…pass me the flame-thrower, Mabel… I’ll soon sort this rabble out… #TBSU…

 

q

…there are days, and I’m sure yeez all get them from time to time, when I just  can’t hold my tongue… I know, I know, I know, some of yeez think I’m a born bletherer, but I mean the days when it’s impossible not to ‘go right ahead’… I had one of these this morning… yeez’ll be well aware of my predilection for accosting the ‘dozens-of-items-and-a credit-card’ Johnnies in the ’ten-items-or-less-and cash-only’ line at the supermarket checkout… I’ve found their cousins… down at the bank today, a nice enuff office, lovely seats to wait in for your turn in the queue to arrive… a turn, it has to be pointed out, dictated to by an orderly system of ticketing… when yeez go into the bank, yeez click a wee machine and it gives yeez a stub with a number on it… if the screen shows the current customer number being served is, say, ’82’ and yer own stub is, say, ’87’, yer wait should be short… sum’times  however, yer number can be scores away, say, ‘112’… then the comfy seats are a welcome fixture… not so welcome, however, in amongst all of this regularity is the ingrained ‘career queue-jumper’… we had one of these charlatans this morning… all was going steadily, and into the bank struts an agitated-looking gentleman, flailing cheque-book in his mitt… completely ignores the ticket machine and stands shoulder to shoulder with the nearest customer being served at counter number three… as soon as the current client is finished, this clod proffers his cheque book to the teller… the teller, bless her, points him back toward the ticket system.. he grunts and retreats for a coupla moments… the next properly in line lady goes to the counter… does our man give up? does he bluudy hell… he nips along to teller number four and waits to try the same stunt… what happens next is straight out of a Keystone Cops script… other sitting clients realise this ploy might WURK, so a stream of up-until-now-patient customers descend on all five tellers… like wee clusters of money-seeking bees they swarm the poor teller staff… I look across at the alleged ‘security guard’ and gesture toward this rabble, indicating for him to step in and restore some order to all of this … he disappears back toward the staff room… in the movies yeez would expect this to be the bit when guys come through the doors with guns blazing… up steps Master Gallacher… I march to the middle of the banking hall and wave my numbered ticket stub in the air and call out as loud as I can, ‘Hey! DOES THIS TICKET SYSTEM NOT APPLY ANY MORE?’… yeez could have heard a pin drop… the guard reappears double quick time and starts to usher the crowds back to their seats… I approach the original culprit and ask him to his face, in my edgiest Glasgow accent… ‘do yeez own this bank or what? everybody else has to line up, my friend’… he looks a million miles away from being ’my friend’… he gets the message, turns on his heel and leaves the bank… a space clears at the teller in front of me and she asks me for my transaction… I reply, ’what number are yeez serving now?’ it was two before mine… I declined the service and told her I’d wait my number’s turn… oh my, I felt so bluudy righteous… so, if yeez are looking for yer next Dirty Harry, ol’ Dirty Seumas is primed and ready to go… …pass me the flame-thrower, Mabel… I’ll soon sort this rabble out… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!

 

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18 Comments

Filed under Blether, Scribbling & Stuff

18 responses to “…pass me the flame-thrower, Mabel… I’ll soon sort this rabble out… #TBSU…

  1. Oh that’s a pet peeve! Line cutters are the worst! And you know it isn’t confined to service. Good for you Seumas! I’d have done the same.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Good for you Seumas… bet Mabel’s proud!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Score one for justice! You deserve a cape. I wish more people had your edgy Glaswegian (did I spell that right?) Awesometude (it’s a word…I made it up just for you and your picture will proudly sit next to it in the dictionary)… You, Sir, totally rock!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. N-I-C-E O-N-E Seumas 😀 😀 😀
    I used to go up and whisper loudly in their ear ‘HARAM SIDDIQ’ and STARE at them
    I’m not a tiny lad (reinforced concrete wall thats seen off a few direct hits and still standing usually springs to mind) so they always got the message 😀 😀 😀

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Well done Seumas. I bet people have been wanting to do that for years.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. ‘So, Punk. You’re wondering what ticket number I have, did I get in early or perhaps I’m a little later? Do you want to chance it punk? Do you? So go ahead… make my day!’

    Liked by 1 person

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