On Friday in a shop in Modica - a chain, where I usually get good service - the shop assistants turned their attention first to a man who had arrived after me. I politely pointed this out but the young women serving and the man said he had arrived before me. I calmly said Ok, but that when the chain's head office emailed me for my opinion of my visit (as they always do) I would reply that it went badly.
In How to be Inimitable (1960) by the Hungarian author George Mikes - a book which is the forerunner of all humourous accounts of British eccentricity - he tells us, "If you want to be a true Briton, you must still be fond of queueing" and, although many things have changed in the land of my birth, I think this is still true. Therefore I wish I had thought to say that I come from a country where queue-jumping is about the most anti-social transgression you can commit so of course I would not have lied about my place in the line. In Britain murder, fraud and bank robbery are way down the list of serious crimes after queue-jumping! (Incidentally queue-jumping seems to happen a lot in perfumeries here.)
I remember that, at the beginning of my first trip to Italy (when I was 19) I had to go to a post office in order to send a telegram informing my parents of my safe arrival. (We didn't have the luxury of instant messaging and international phone calls were expensive and often took ages to connect.) There were a lot of people but nobody was queueing and no ticket system was in place, so not really knowing what to do, I just sat and watched everyone else for twenty minutes or so. Then a kindly-looking clerk beckoned me and I managed to send my telegram. Would anyone have the patience now?
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| My very old copy of How to be Inimitable. I still peruse it now and then, for the smiles. |
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