A Grocer's Life

A grocer owned the corner shop in our village, and this is how I remember him.   This piece was partly inspired by Stud Terkel’s interview with Babe Secoli in his book “Working,”

When Mam ran the shop just after the War, I used to deliver groceries after school.   “Get an education, Son.   Get up out of the muck.”   But I wanted to work in the shop with me brown overall standing safe and proud behind that wooden counter, not getting buried down the pit or covered in grease fixing cars.

Mam’s house was part of the shop.   I was brought up there.   That’s how I felt - part of the shop.   Then when she died in the sixties, well, the shop just spread into the house.   I made it self-service.   Help yourself.   Put a stack o’baskets by the door.

I’m eighty now, still serving in the shop.   Nothing like it.   I love it. 
“Why not retire?” they say.
“To do what?” I ask.    I don’t want holidays.  You get old doin’ nothin’.   Open up at six to catch the workers.   Few and far between now.   I do ‘em bacon sandwiches, baguettes they call ‘em.   Then it’s the school run.
“What can I have for 20p?”    Not a lot!
I hate it when they bring dogs in.    I say “OUT!”    Cocking their leg.

I love it when we get the kids in, running errands.   “Can I have a loaf of bread, please?”
“There’s 12p change,” I say.  “You could have two 6p toffee sticks, or four 3p black bubblegums, or twenty-four half-p chews.”
“Mummy said I must take the change home.”
There’s the challenge.   Can I break them?   Sales technique over nurture.

You have  to sell yourself or you’ll never sell anything.   Bloke this week wanted Country Life butter.   I said “I got Anchor, same difference.”
He said, “No.   Country Life.”
I said, “Anchor’s better.”
“The wife won’t want Anchor.”
“Made from full cream,” I said.   “No additives like Country Life.”
Yes, you have to sell yourself and no mistake.

Bloke in the Off Licence couldn’t sell ‘isself.  “Ain’t got none o’ that.”   “No children!”   “No credit!” Soon went down the pan. No idea of doing business.

Credit’s another thing.    Do it right and they’re with you for good.   Paying for last week’s while taking this week’s.    Never catch up.   They’re with you for good.   Becomes a way of life – like mother, like daughter, even granddaughter, all buying on tick.

Police come once, throwing their weight about.   Couldn’t touch me.   Course I sell half-price cakes.   They’re damaged.   Fell off the back of a lorry.   You gotta laugh, don’t you?

Got to make a couple o’ bob to keep the shop going.   I like making money  - and just being here.