I’m dedicating the start of this story to a lady called Annabelle. We don’t know each other, but we’ve spoken on the radio show. In a sporadic segment on the show, people call-in with any problem they have in the world. It doesn’t matter how small. It doesn’t need to apply to everyone. What matters most is getting it off your chest. Out in the open. Fresh eyes on the challenge.

I’ve had men who can’t cook. People who wear slippers to take the bins out, even when it’s wet. Bras that break washing machines. Plastic caps on drink bottles that smack you in the face. No issue is too small. They can always be added to.

I say a problem shared is a problem doubled. Well, try sharing it on the radio and the ratio shoots up.

Annabelle called the show at her wits’ end. The issue was her local petrol station. It’s a relatively small station. Six pumps, a maximum of nine cars at a time. No easy way out, you simply wait and leave when the person in front has paid.

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This age-old system has worked since the days of the Morris Oxford Bullnose. It’s a straightforward British system of queuing. Something we’re known for globally. It’s embedded in British DNA.

The problem has arisen since the petrol station also became a mini supermarket. A petrol station and a small pop-in supermarket. Now, if the person at the front decides to do a little shop and then pay, no one can move. You’re pinned in by the daydreamer buying milk. They even provide mini trollies.

I’ve had this experience too. And even if the passengers in my car assure me there’s no rush, the person buying a bar of Marvellous Creations and a bottle of wine doesn’t know that.

I was once stuck so long I went inside and asked people if they owned a white Ford Focus. One shopper looked miffed when I politely asked them to “get a wiggle on.” They said they hadn’t finished shopping. I’m sure they hadn’t but I no longer wanted them holding me hostage.

I’m not trying to fall out with anyone. I just wanted to go home.

This has happened to Annabelle on multiple occasions, and she needed to vent. Sure, there are other petrol stations. But this one’s closest. It has the best price. She’s tried going elsewhere however, this is the one she wants to use.

As we bonded over this shared frustration, Annabel told me she’d spent several nights creating an ad poster campaign to highlight the issue. It was time wisely used. This is the slogan that she crafted. It went like this: Fill Up – Pay Up – Park Up. What do you think? I like it.

To all the supermarkets and convenience stores feel free to use it and save those pinned down in your forecourts.