Most encounters with our customers are fleeting, pleasant and don't leave much by way of an identifiable or indelible mark upon either of our psyches. And in a way why should it? We are simply pleasantly agreeing upon and partaking in a transaction. However.......
Our neighbours in the courtyard in the cafe and craft beer shop have encountered since the pandemic an increasing amount of verbal abuse and uncalled for stroppy customer behaviour. Probably an indication of the countries collective state of mental health after restrictions and several lock downs. Tense, bad tempered, resentful, on edge, wanting to hit out, to find a focus for unprocessed frustrations. Shopkeepers have always been sitting ducks for this type of behaviour.
The worst it gets for us in Cottonwood Home is a certain derision in the eyes, a snottiness, or hostile glare from beyond our shop window. People know when we are not their sort of shop, so they generally don't come in. Though we do hear the wives who ask ' shall we go in here' to her husband, and gets an abrupt 'Nope' in reply. We see the men walking off, after having got their beer. Walking off when you are the one holding the purse strings, means they can either deny or grant their little woman's pleasure. Along the lines of ' I'm not paying that for a bar of soap' ditto candle, mug, sex etc - to the slightly creepier 'you let me know whatever you want babes' Oh the pastronising largesse of the traditional male role.
The other day two wyrd aged sisters, both dressed in a floaty melange of greeny blue hand dyed dresses, wafted in. Looking for all the world like a Monet painting of a lily pond, but with legs. They stopped to gaze at our wall of lampshades. One turned to me with a wary hostile look in her eye, as she delved into her bag. Eventually producing a pack of sanitising hand wipes. Which she very pointedly and thoroughly used in front of me as if the whole shop, including me, struck her as inherently grubby and a bio hazard. She then said 'Do you ever reduce all your prices' After my reply of 'Only in our Spring Sale' in the same way they arrived they floated out on their gossamer wings.
A lot of things change quite dramatically in high tourist season. Yes, the town is frequently heaving. But this summer many things have been more notable. The average obesity level of people in the town rises quite dramatically. Whole generations of a family - four, five, six. adults and children descending in height like plump inflatable Russian dolls.
The old lady 'day of the soap sniffers' has returned. Addicted to the mask penetrating pong, they fail to slacken their purse strings, even though they did inhale. We also hear, once again, the filthy cackle of women who lose all self control laughing uproariously at the rude cards outside the off licence next door.
There are days when it seems every other person appears to be hobbling around on crutches, a zimmer frame - with or without a shopping trolley attached, riding along on a mobility scooter, or someone whose mental and physical faculties are so worse for wear they require a carer to accompany them everywhere they go. All of these, boldly signify that today's or this weeks visitors are a bit 'off brand' for us, to borrow an apt phrase from Schitt's Creek. We then know that the off licence or hippy shop will be positively heaving, whilst we remain quiet. Left gazing out upon other people's customers. Trying to deny the degree of envy. But, fear not, our moment does come, when the tables are reversed.
One day in the cafe there was an working class couple from Essex sat at a table in the courtyard cafe. Talking across to another couple saying ' We love coming to Sheringham its so relaxing, it like entering another slower pace of life. We come here regular, don't we love? Its just so loverly and quiet' all delivered in the loudest most earsplitting bellowing voice you can imagine. As if they spend most of their life talking over the noise of a road drill.
There's been more badly controlled yappy dogs and badly controlled car driving. A lot of careless absent mindedness and to hell with it risk taking going on. Loads of low slung sports cars with the baffles taken off, where the ground vibrates as they sweep past. Huge four wheeled ranger trucks, so clean that they wouldn't know a country road even if it hit them with mud splatter. Towering over people and the road might bring a feeling of power and domination in an urban environment. Broad enough to fill the entire width of the North Norfolk coast road, they are just a bit of an anachronistic sore thumb here. But I guess you do need obese cars to carry the obese family in.
Driving to Holt we passed a man wobbling precariously whilst riding on his bicycle. Was he drunk? Or had he not ridden a bike before? No, he teetered because his dog was on a long lead and it was pulling him all over the road. On another day a cyclist deliberately rode in the middle of the lane so no one could get passed him. After crossing a narrow bridge the road straightened and broadened out so we overtook him. But as we completed our manoeuvre he reasserted his position back in the middle of the lane. Causing the cars behind us to break and honk their horns. Egregious power mode on the road.
On a lighter note. It is the season for Summer Fetes what a relief it must be to be outside buying your poorly made tat, in the wind, and the rain too. I guess that would be very special. Then there are the classical cello concert events held in semi-redundant parish churches in places like Trunch or The Relief of Mafeking Commemoration Village Hall in Little Moving. With wonderfully named performers like Orlando Jopping, ( look them up, I haven't invented them ) My Hubby put it memorably 'It's so good they are providing ordinary working class musicians with opportunities to perform,'
The daily and weekly pattern of trade in the shop, is absolutely all over the show, you'd have thought someone up there was being a bit of a tease. Though it has been very good. August was by a long way our best months takings ever. Our better days tend to happen mid-week, the traditional busy summer Saturday is now quite a rare occurrence. The mornings generally very very quiet, we may not take a shekel until 1pm or even later some days. An entire days substantial takings happening often within the space of one hour. This is not the same buying pattern as last year, which was different to the year previous. Its all utterly baffling. We are forced to just throw up our hands and declare we just don't know what to expect. So we expect nothing, constantly having to learn how to trust, to have a little faith in the gods of the subliminal.
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