I just got back from a local corner shop. Well, when I say local it is not quite true: it is a Londis, therefore part of a chain and it is very bland looking as a building. But it has local products and it is outside the center of town, so it is local enough. Not quite local like the local bookshop I visited last weekend, but there you go. From what I could see, the staff and the customers who come in are very local, their accent and looks scream proletarian England. There was something slightly out of time about them, which was quite nice actually. They gave character to a very, very bland place.
I didn't speak much there, basically I bought some milk and cakes and left (now how typical is it to buy milk in a corner shop?). I had time to hear the conversation between a regular customer and the people at the till, about some dog that died in a car because of the heat. I felt every bit like the foreigner I am. I didn't drop in the conversation and I don't know why but I was almost relieved that nobody noticed my accent. I think I don't like all the time being considered like a strange beast or something exotic. Ironic, since the locals are exotic to me (those were anyway). I might like this town, but I am still an outsider and I think I always will be. So when I leave it, I might not be so sad.
Monday, 27 June 2011
A local shop and an outsider (me)
Labels:
Angleterre,
England,
home sweet home,
lait,
Londis,
milk,
N'importe quoi,
whatever
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