The smackhead Big Issue seller was still outside. He's changed his hairstyle since I last saw him. Can't say its much of an improvement. I'm not just assuming he's a junkie because he's homeless. I know he is because I've seen him with his foil out on the train. (Tangent: after one particularly heavy night when I looked rather wrecked, I remember being a bit embarrassed when I needed to buy some foil thinking that the shopkeeper would assume I was buying it for drug reasons - I wasn't, I was doing baked potatoes - but I still looked guilty and got embarrassed buying it)
They've made some changes to the interior of the store to try to make it less pikey looking - some of the wine is on wood-effect shelves and they have branded wheelchairs by the door for use by older customers. It still retains an air of menace. There were gangs of youths marauding the aisles - they appeared to be buying orange juice, but the threat of violence wasn't far away.
The one thing I do like about going to the supermarket which you miss out on online is seeing what other people are buying. I love this - I'm so nosey. The woman in front of me was buying a small wholemeal loaf, a piece of ginger, some sugarfree gum and a pint of milk, the old couple behind me were shopping as if their trolley was the ark - everything was going in two by two - they must have taken advantage of every BOGOF offer in there (I bought a bag of Quorn mince, hair dye and a toothbrush).
Coincidentally, I knew the woman on the till from the days when I used to work over the road. My friend Colin has a bit of a crush on her - doomed of course as she's married with kids. As a sign of his affection, he once took her in a loaf of bread he'd made - this being a supermarket with an instore bakery - to compound the inappropriateness he even wrapped it in a Tesco carrier bag. She was still sweet and cheery despite having to work in such a hole. If only I could be so sanguine.
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