Don't fall asleep too soon
Perhaps it was a michevious shop assistant, but on the day Woolworths announced total liquidation, the instore music had a certain ironic edge to it. The cold weather saw crowds almost dressed for a wake as they filed in. The long black coats of mourners. Or the fleece-lined jackets, reminiscent of vultures come to pick at the remaining meat.
"I don't know. Nothing here's really doing it for me"
Many were ruthless in their browsing; grasping at their chosen bauble, turning it over with a critical eye, and dropping it on the floor, rejected. But then, many had not come for items. They had come to witness a little nugget of history, replicated a thousandfold across Britain. To reinterpret it as they saw fit.
"So sad, Isn't it? So odd.""Just look at all the faces of the staff."
"I'll tell you how they could have raised some money in this place. Turn the heating down!"
Convenience store. Noble high-street institution. Bargain bin. Cheery anachronism.
Woolworths meant many different things to people, but it meant something to everyone in this country. How many shops can say that?