Multi Something Morrisons
Sir Morrisons in Palmers Green is as different from their cousin's in Berwick as Dettol and Dairy Milk. No caravanners for a start. And very few original natives as compared with homogeneous Ber Wick. I don't think, in twenty minutes instore(ugh) that I heard English spoken as a first language, or, indeed, English spoken at all, except from fractured to fractious, at the checkouts. At, sadly, the absence of belligerent caravanners does nothing to lighten the atmosphere. From the tall be hatted Rasta to the tiny tremulous Bangladeshi eye contact is out, laughter unforgivable and exchange of pleasantries unlikely. The check out lady grunted at her customers-no cheery Hiya!No weather forecast. Just down cast eyes, plastic bags thrust in your general direction and a grunt.
I asked a store person for tonic water. Astonishment at being addressed and an irritated admission of ignorance-not my part of the store-ask over there with a flick of a thumb. A group of anxious customers were blocking access to the tonic shelves-they were whispering, heads together.
Store announcements were in heavily accented English and above this thrusting, heaving, muttering, polyglot united nations,native Londoners, economic migrants, asylum seekers I could almost see a manifestation of Sir Morrison's enlightened free market Philosophy: Come ye Huddled Masses Yearning to buy one Get One Free
And the minature Statue of Liberty, just as you come through the exit only
-Torch in one hand.
The Big Issue in the other