My unfailing ability to pick the slowest moving queue in these small villages they're trying to pass off as shops these days.
Today, for example - see one with only one guy waiting and think, "Ya dancer - I'll be out of here in no time." Then the guy hands the cashier a fifty pound note and she - having obviously never seen a fifty pound note - promptly calls for the supervisor.
After several days the goddamn supervisor turns up to examine the note - what with her being an expert in forgery and all.
I mean really! Who the fuck is going to forge a fifty pound note when whipping one out draws that much attention?
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