The place where everbody knows your name.

I walked into the fruit shop in town to get boxes in preparation for my moving house, the man behind the counter had a huge beer gut and a beard down to his belt buckle, it was an unusual beard as the hair that grew of his chin was shaved clean, leaving these huge mutant mutton chops to crawl off his head (and almost down his pants!).


I had never seen this man before in my life...

ME: Hi do you have any empty boxes? I'm moving house.
MAN: Yeah... just a minute aren't you the guy that walks down Fernhill road every night at six?
ME: Yes, that's when I go for my walk.
MAN: I see you every night whilst I am watching the telly eating my dinner, I thought I knew you from somewhere.
ME: Oh.
MAN: So I guess I won't be seeing you anymore soon. Where are you moving to?
ME: Um... Warburton, eventually.
MAN: Oh, well good luck.


He handed me the boxes and I left.


You know some days it seems like the small world experience just keeps on getting smaller and smaller.