I suppose that by continuing working at the supermarket albeit one day a week, it does keep me rooted somewhat;
I stay grounded when I get my fanciful ideas that I could maybe disappear into the Sacromonte Caves of Granada and perhaps become a gypsy matriarch casting an eagle eye, in the mid-day sun over the castanet clicking, flamenco dress wearing brood that would be my charge.........Yes, it brings me back to reality when I have visions of immersing myself deep into a Sultan's harem....perhaps I could be a retired concubine or something 
i'd be in charge of the veils and essential oils.......
So there I was last Sunday at my usual position in the foyer by the entrance door, when someone tapped me on the shoulder and excitedly exclaimed "hello, how the devil are you!?"
I could tell by her tone that she knew me but I couldn't quite place this rather pleasant, ordinary 'woman of a certain age'.
"You don't recognise me, do you?" she enquired.
"Hmmm, you do seem a little familiar..what's your name? perhaps that will jog my memory" 
She laughed, "well, it has been forty years...don't you remember our 18th birthday?"
"Our 18th" 
"Yes, i'm Josie, the one from the village who was born on the same day as you, we celebrated together 
The memory of the day gradually returned, I couldn't recall it very well, I remember my 21st birthday much more clearly.
"Of course, Josie" 
I responded " Erm, what did we do exactly..on our 18th birthday?"
"We met in the village pub then we caught the bus to town where we met up with our mutual friends from the shirt factory with whom we pub crawled about the town and then went on to the Mecca ballroom"
She went on to elaborate ..."I remember spending
half the night in the Mecca powder room bringing up the contents of the barley wines and cherryB's we'd drunk earlier"
"That's it now I remember!" I triumphantly exclaimed,
this being the the way I always used to spend my leisure time during the years between leaving school and leaving home.
We chatted for quite a while, she told me that shortly after we last met she got married and was still with him today forty years later.
I congratulated her on her achievement and felt duty bound to explain that I had left home around that time and ended up living in a squat in London and that I didn't really feel that I had "settled down" until I was about thirty six years of age.
We talked about our children and how they hadn't turned out too badly considering their mothers were once giddy factory lasses from the pit village...Yes, it was good meeting her.
We had to end the conversation as I was supposedly working and she had left her hubby down an aisle somewhere but she concluded by saying that I hadn't changed a bit, I had the same mannerisms, the same smile, the same voice ....
AH!..the voice 
..indeed! once heard never forgotton or so it seems
I did explain that during my ten years living in London I had cultivated a passable 'Larndan' accent but that as soon as I returned north and married a broad Yorkshireman the original brogue returned with a vengeance as if it had never been away.
Simultaneously we said Goodbye and in unison we trilled "Happy Birthday" for next month to each other
In other news from the foyer
A man in biker's leathers rode up the pedestrianised area from the car park and left his powerful motorcycle outside the store entrance 
he walked over to a different part of the car park before returning five minutes later.
The bike was now blocked in by customers walking either side of it towards the doors but he eventually manouvered it to an official parking space, causing much consternation.
Meanwhile I muttered to a woman with two children who was entering the store with words to the effect of "what a total idiot that chap is"
"You're telling me" she smirked "that's my husband!
Booby no 2 was quite literally that.
One of my middle-aged female colleagues was leaving the store and I asked her if she still worked the night shift.
She informed me that she had been off work on sick leave due to the fact that she had eventually been given the breast reduction operation which she had been pushing for for many years.
She then promptly pulled a wad of photos out of her bag and proudly showed me her 'before and after' photos (and the gory bits in between)
There's never a dull moment moment in a crowded supermarket foyer
...i've just turned the computer on with the pretence of checking to see if any wires have come loose!
).
so, next step will be to phone the consultant's secretary....but in the mean-time t'old man thinks he can have the house re-decorated....with me as the labourer and trainee decorater and him as the foreman it seems 
