Friendly faces

This morning, Dan and I got up, took our turns in the bathroom, had some breakfast and then strolled across to the market square, where I often leave my car. It was one of those mornings where all seemed right with the world and I said as much to him.

On Thursdays, the market square is actually used for the market, so all the cars have to be gone by eight o'clock, but some stalls were already up and there were traders standing around. As we reached the car, I noticed three of them in a group, staring at me. Well, more glaring than staring. They said nothing.

"Morning!" I said, as I opened the car for Dan, since it seems rather rude to engage in prolonged eye-contact with someone without saying anything. (Unless you are a couple sharing a moment, I suppose. Even those can be a bit awks.)

Anyway, one of the group broke away and walked over. "Is this your car?" he inquired, a little superfluously, I thought. "Yes", I replied.

"You've parked here before on market day, haven't you?"
"I have. Cars have to be moved by eight o'clock, don't they?"
"Six o'clock."
"Oh, really?! I'm so sorry. I thought it was eight."
"You're costing me business."

I couldn't help looking around the square, although not in a pantomime fashion.

"Well, I would be if anyone was around at this time."
"I'm really sorry, it was an honest mistake,"

He turned away, muttering something that I'm not sure whether I was supposed to hear or not. "Anyway, thanks for dealing with my mistake in such a friendly manner" I called after him, utilising such a friendly manner myself that he actually turned and smiled before frowning.

"He wasn't very nice" said Dan before we returned to discussing Wolverine.

After this, I popped into Booths to buy a bottle of wine for Steve, to thank him for helping me out on Monday. As I walked in, the person on the front desk gave me a broad grin and said "Morning, lovely day" and when I came to pay for the wine, the person on the till was equally friendly, telling me about what she'd had for breakfast (I should have asked if she was on Twitter).

Now, I know that one one of these two groups of people - the traders and the Booths staff - has got up early, today, in order to set up their stalls, stand around in the cold all day to try and making a living from what I guess are not spectacular margins, before having to take their stalls down again, and the last thing they need to start their day is some idiot who can't read parking notices properly - albeit tucked away in a fashion the Vogons would approve of - being all cheerful and 'Hail fellow, well met' when they've been standing around for an hour or so waiting for him to move his car.

But, the problem is that what I will remember is the feeling and not the intellectualisation.

Anyway, while I'm having a grumble, I got into the office, Googled "florists Chorley" because I wanted to sent the Minx some flowers for her exhibition. I ignored Interflora and sent messages to two local florists, using the contact forms on their websites. Neither of them got back to me all day.

Long-suffering readers of my posts will know that apart from a well documented weakness for large coffee chains, I'm all for supporting small and local businesses and avoiding the huge, tax avoiding, zero hours contracting, shareholder driven companies that dominate our commercial life. But guys, this isn't the way to do it.

However, to end on a more upbeat note, at lunchtime Steve and I drove out to Mealbank, where a surprisingly large industrial estate is tucked away. There's a chap there who does bodywork and I have a scratch on my car that needs attending. The chap - also called Steve, confusingly, at least as far as this post goes - was was one those people whose resting expression appears to be a cheerful grin. He took a look at the car, and managed to make me grin, too, while he told me how bad the scratch was. Lovely chap. And that's what you need for a small business. (Here endeth etc)

(And while we were there, I took a shot of these loitering caravans, hanging around on the industrial estate. So, now you know where they go in the winter. They don't migrate, after all.)