Post Office queue a supreme test of patience

The Post Office queue is truly the work of the devil and requires a level of patience that would test even Mother Theresa. I and about fifty other people wasted 30 minutes of our lives this morning because only three counters were open even though Royal Mail staff could be clearly seen in the background doing nothing.

Most main Post Office’s have a counter specifically for travel money that is miraculously staffed when some idiot wanders in off the street to change currencies. Once done, the staff melts away and the counter is closed despite a 200 ft long queue that resembles the sort of miserable and depressed column you’d see when refugees are fleeing a war torn country.

Just who are these people that make the effort to visit the Post Office to get their currency when better rates can be had elsewhere? And exactly what highly important and secretive work is the Travel Money staff doing that warrants having to close the f*****g counter when there’s no FX customers and the queue is growing even longer?

Not content with ensuring the counter service is slower than the runner up in a Village Idiot contest, Royal Mail staff also insist on asking every customer if they’d like to buy credit cards, life insurance, motor insurance, pet insurance, broadband internet, Post Office mobile phone, telephone service and a hundred other inane products that everybody already has or doesn’t require.

Transaction finished and counter now vacated, it’s time for the staff to shuffle a set of meaningless papers, count out a fiver using 1 and 2 pence pieces and then have a chat and a laugh with their colleague before the next poor sod actually gets served.

And what about all those Post Office staff hanging around in the background like bums waiting for the mobile soup kitchen, what exactly do they do and more to the point, why aren’t they doing it?

Finally, we have the "helpful" trainee who seems to think it’s a good idea to ask everyone in the queue if they need forms or stamps despite a whole wall stuffed to the gills with forms together with a stamp machine large enough for elephants. If we wanted a bloody form or stamp, why on earth would we waste our time standing in a feckin’ queue when we can see the damn things on display?

Here’s a tip for you love, never mind asking everyone want they want, how about opening another counter so we can get some quicker service?


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