Ok then, i'm sat here again waiting for a scene to render...so here's the thought (such as it is) for this evening, everyone sitting comfortably? Then i'll begin :)

There is one particular aspect of out national personality that's been exhaustively documented by every goggle-eyed foreigner who's ever set foot on Blighty's hallowed shores, and that is our penchant for queueing...and, more to the point, queueing politely :) As any quintessential Englishman (or woman) can tell you there are a great many subtle unspoken rules to the true art of queueing...acceptable distance between yourself and the next person, trolley/basket etiquette, when you can put your shopping on the conveyor belt, acceptable queue conversation (tradition dictates that conversation should only be started by (A) the elderly and insane (B) painfully bored men (C) warring children and, very very rarely (D) between yourself and an unbelievably gorgeous member of the opposite sex...now tradition also tells us that options A and B *must* be restricted to impossibly empty and banal chit-chat, option C is communicated through the use of piercing shrieks and option D is to be as witty and interesting as is humanly possible...but beware! you are, remember, surrounded by hordes of other people who are pretending not to listen to your woeful attempts at engaging repartee and the potential for horrendous embarrasment here is very high indeed!), there are also the obvious points here like not jumping the queue etc but most of us are *far* too polite to ever consider doing anything of the kind...and even if we did we'd probably keel over with heart failure before we even reached the checkout due to the immense emotional stress induced by such giddy temerity. Now in the unlikely event that some grubby oik *does* contravene one of the sacred rules of queueing it is considered to be *horrendously* bad form to do anything beyond glare menacingly at the back of their heads (of course remembering to smile when they turn to look at you, probably giving them a 'that's ok, I don't mind queueing really' look as well), make small (inaudible of course) exhalations along the lines of 'tchah!' or 'pfff!', and occasionally glance back at the people queueing behind you and roll your eyes skyward...NEVER actually have a go at someone about this, oh good lord no! that's the kind of thing Americans do!

But anyway, to the case in hand, which is one particular area of queueing that always fills me with a chill dread...realising you've forgetten something as you get to the checkout!...now this, in itself, is only a minor irritation...I mean, if you're on your own you can just leave the queue, get whatever it is you've forgotten, and start queueing again (we're English for gods sake! how can the opportunity to queue for the same things twice be bad! ;))...no, the terrifying part here is if you're with someone...and if they offer to go and get whatever this elusive item is for you...they trot off on a blissfully care free adventure and you're left there, in the queue and unable to shop properly! gah!...the tension's bad enough as you're waiting patiently behind the other shoppers (and this is the *only* time that you will ever be praying for people to start faffing around taking ages to pay etc...of course they won't...but that's a tirade for another day) then it gets to your turn to put your shopping on the conveyor belt and tension is mounting at a quite frightening rate now...then the checkout girl (or boy) starts to put your stuff through, dear lord you're tense now, you could probably fry an egg on your forehead...then it starts to get to the end of your load of stuff and, whilst frantically warring with stubborn plastic bags, you start to panic and, prairie dog style, start peering around trying to locate your missing partner...where the hell have they gone! what the fuck are they doing? having this...whatever it is...hand crafted by a team of swiss artificers! WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY? and then, just as your forehead's about to set fire to your hair! they come meandering back into view, nochalantly place this holy grail of the supermarket on the belt as the very last items go through, and then have the unutterable gall to stare at you as if nothing's happened! I swear it strips years off your life when this happens I really do :)