The prices take you inside. None of the charm of your olde worlde shoppe here. More, bright, fluorescent lights and a life size decal of a polis on the glass sliding door entrance that makes you do a double take time and again. (Must be the guilty conscience).
At the top of the first aisle, a young lady stops to ask advice from a shelf stacking employee.
"Excuse me, can you tell us if you sell pouring cream?"
The young man is mild-mannered and polite.
"Em, sorry, pouring cream? What is that?" and then goes on "Oh, sorry, yer not allowed to eat in here."
He's addressing a gallus 7 year old girl with tangled hair, who is balancing a very large cream filled chocolaty cookie in the upturned palm of her hand.
Before he even finishes, the wee girl has chimed in over him,
"Ah'm no eatin it, Ah'm no eatin it but."
The lady is replying, "Ye know that kind a creamy stuff that's cream but runny n ye can pour it."
He's sorry, but they don't.
The cake is being thrust towards the young man and he repeats that you're not allowed to eat in the store.
The wee madam protests grandly, "Aye, but Ah'm no eatin it, right."
"Look, it's not ma rules," he says softly, "I'm just telling you cos if you go round the corner the manager'll tell you you canny eat that."
"But Ah umny eatin' it," she says in a mock exasperated tone and then curtly dismisses him with a smart but huffy, "Right, Ah've fell oot wi you."
They both amble on down the aisle and the cake travels with them. still held aloft, far away from her mouth.
The employee looks at me and sighs, " Dead cheeky," he says.