IWE are all queued-up. According to a study by a leading logistics expert -- who spent the equivalent of 92 days in 2000 queues to reach his conclusion -- we are unwilling to spend more than three to four minutes standing in line before getting stressed, giving up and walking away.

The concept of fast customer service is taking over and advertisers are conditioning us to expect to be attended to quickly.

So in future we may not tolerate hanging about with a bunch of strangers and the queue will be no more. That's sad. I've come across some nice people in queues. I met one of my best friends in a sort-of queue, waiting to see the doctor at the baby clinic.

But I must say, there are some places where queues are a huge source of stress and, to be honest, a big enough reason not to go. I try to avoid some places like the plague, top of the list being post offices.

Not little sub-branches, but those large affairs in town centres. The queue is always long and winding, and how I hate those horrible contraflow systems made of what look like pieces of Jockey short elastic. Sometimes 'entertainment' is laid on in the form of videos with fifth-rate actors rambling on about the virtues of bubble wrap and padded envelopes. To relieve the tedium, an all-singing-all-dancing advert for double-glazing will occasionally pop up. I much prefer tiny little, usually queue-free branches (which can't accommodate more than five people at any one time anyway) but they're the ones struggling for survival.

The queue at Tesco on Saturday night for a lottery ticket 15 minutes before the machines shut down is another one.

Often, when I've spent an exhausting hour shopping and I'm pushing my heavily laden trolley towards the door, I suddenly think "What I wouldn't give for a Caribbean holiday, a country pile and servants."

Then I pass the Lottery stand and think a series of thoughts: "It could be me," "You've got to be in it to win it," all that nonsense.

Obviously 99.9 per cent of shoppers think the same way, because suddenly, there's a queue longer than the runway at Heathrow.

I usually join it, but worry about being spotted by someone I know

(last time it was my daughter's teacher) who might think "Oh, look at her in that massive queue, times must be REALLY hard."

The Marks & Spencer post-Christmas Returns and Refunds queue is another nightmare.

I've spent a good hour in this line. I don't know why, because I could easily have waited a few days. But I'm always amazed to see people taking back what looks like an entire wardrobe and suspicious as to how they came by so many garments that are the clearly the wrong size.

And finally fairground rides. My children are still quite young and I've yet to experience the full horror of standing in the shadow of a terrifying ride beside a sign saying "three hours from here," knowing I'll have to part with a small fortune for a mere two minutes so-called fun.

It is true nowadays people are less willing to wait and more people than ever seem to barge in rudely and think nothing of it.

Queuing isn't always enjoyable, but accept it as a way of life. If you can't beat them, join them -- even if the wait is for hours.