Petty Grumble #2

The Queue at Ikea.
We were fourth in line behind a bunch of people (all with moderate amounts of shopping) and it took over half an hour to get to us (there were over a dozen people behind us before we got to the end). It seems the cashier was new (or incompetent) and was scanning things very slowly and also had no clue about how to use the tills, of which there were only four open (which didn't help). The twit infront of us had, rather cleverly, decided to pick up a cushion from in the store (For those of you not familiar with Ikea, what you do is nick a bunch of the free little pencils and then when you spot something you want to buy, you write it's product code down on a piece of paper which you haven't nicked because it's not worth the effort). So, back to the story, the woman infront of us had picked up a cushion from the store. Now, obviously they can't run the cushion through the till and sell it to her because they have to put it back on display. Eventually, the cashier figures this out and trys to imput the code for the cushion in to get one brought out that could be bought. He types it wrong and it comes up as £80 (which he manages to input twice). Much head-scratching and button pressing ensues, to no avail and he eventually decides to call his supervisor to take the item out of the sale. So, this bloke who looks like the outer piece of a set of Russian Dolls (except that he's not dressed like a Russian peasant woman) comes up, turns a key in the till and wipes the item out of the transaction. It still takes about another 10 minutes for the last few items to be run through. (By this point I'm sitting on a bench with my nieces at the other end of the checkout area, so don't see what's happening.) All in all, I spent far, far, too long in Ikea of Saturday night, partiularly because the only thing I came out with was another big lbue Ikea bag to there'd be one more available for when I get coerced into sorting my dirty washing out.

Grumble.