Queueing - At Your Service?

Us Brits like to talk about how we hate queueing, but I'm not about to start that diatribe. Personally, I think that queueing is all well and good and should not be complained about, but I am noticing recently a growing trend that is starting to dent my good-natured English acceptance of standing in line.

At the risk of sounding slightly Germanic, waiting for something is fine as long as the thing you are waiting for is executed swiftly and efficiently. And here is where the whole shooting match falls down. Let me give you an example: there are two city-centre, scaled-down versions of major supermarkets that I frequently use - Tesco Express and Sainbury's Local. The experiences at the two could not be more different.

Sainbury's does the business: there is a good selection of staples, the odd flourish and when you get to the till, it's all bagged up for you without question and paid for before you can say Jack Robinson. Of course, there are exceptions to this, but generally, it's the nuts. But while Tesco has a range of products that far outstrips the variety on offer at this Sainsbury's, they have a very serious problem when it comes to service.

This particular Tesco finds itself in a busy, multi-use city centre mall - there are workers in the complex itself, and many city centre workers and shoppers visit it around lunchtime and evening for its bars and restaurants. You would think that they would notice a pattern of trade, and man the tills accordingly. You would think. There's no problem with the stocking of shelves and what-have-you at this Tesco store, but the experience of queueing - one that we must accept, stoically - is thoroughly marred by the nonsense you experience when you get to the last stage in the shopping process.

Mostly, the rule appears to be to have three people standing idle at the tills all morning when it's quiet, before quickly seconding two of them to stacking duties just as the lunchtime rush begins. It takes at least ten people amassed in the snaking, Tensabarriered "queueing zone" before the single till operator reaches beneath his or her position to ring the "can someone please come and help at the tills" bell. You can hear it ring from inside the shop. On average, it then takes five minutes and a few more insistent ringings of the bell before someone - clearly under duress - sluggishly scuffs their way to the till to serve their customers.

If it's not a lack of staff at the tills, it's the staff at the tills who aren't serving. Cashing-up seems to take place during any given busy period, and involves two workers, one counting and one bagging and cross-checking. Those two workers who could be manning two tills. Meanwhile, the queue builds to fifteen and you could imagine you were hearing the seasonal mating calls of Amazon toads, what with all the tutting.

The staff at the two could not be more different, either, in both appearance and attitude. Sainbury's seems to employ pretty sharp young folk, people who smile, people who'll have a chat with you as they pack your bags. There is a sense of teamwork going on. Tesco, I can only imagine, stipulates "a lack of social skills and etiquette, together with some form of personal hygiene or communication issue" in their recruitment advertising. Sorry, but it's true.

I would also like to point out that Tesco always runs out of Marlboro Lights, whereas I can buy a multipack from Sainbury's at any given time. Hooray for Sainbury's. Boo for Tesco. I do prefer Tesco's food, so that evens it out. But the rot is setting in. Today Tesco. Tomorrow, the world.