Join a queue, any queue…

To Hereford, which is now becoming a regular event for a hair cut (style/trim/launder/puff up – delete as appropriate).

Got taken by a queue in the main drag, which incidentally is now host to a market which has a slight bustle to it. Quite a lengthy queue, but why? It turns out that free Lateral Flow Test packs were being handed out. So, it would be rude not to, and I joined the line which moved quite quickly. I noticed a circular seat cum planter so I sat down and watched the day unfold.

Ten-thirty or so, on a warm relaxed Spring morning. Musing, I marvelled at the fact that people knew what they were, how to use them, and how compliantly they had/have accepted enormous changes in their lives, routines and, well everything really. They might have had Covid, knew someone who had it, died from it, or suffered heartbreak in relative isolation – literally.

One of the queuers came across to me and asked “has anybody killed Putin yet”? “Sorry?” I responded, asking for clarification, but none was forthcoming and a monologue on the awfulness of it ensued. What annoyed me was that the gentle and brief tirade was from a comfortable and secure position and the lady had little concept that the same, the Ukraine invasion, could (stress) happen to her.

Conclusion? How much we need human contact and inter-personal interaction and communication, and how pleasant to be involved in what people do in Hereford on a Wednesday morning in Spring. Sandie then joined me, and we moved on, immediately feeling claustrophobic with (maskless) people milling around us. A rapid exit to our rabbit hole ensued “at pace” as those annoying interviewees on the radio say. People? Up to a point…