Guildford on a Wednesday, the EE shop halfway up the cobbled high street. I went in for a SIM card for Jacobi. A large old man, face cragged with the strain of the digital age, summer shirt, a crumpled cheese cloth, went before me. I could hear the young woman teaching him over and over again how to scroll. As I took my place at the high desk three more customers replaced me on the bench, all of them well into their sixties. One wore a flat cap. They were ready for a fight before they’d sat down. My own young woman, helpful and efficient but new to the job had another help her regularly to tap with lightening speed numbers and ask questions and sign here and here. I only wanted a SIM but left with an upgrade which didn’t take the thirty seconds he’d promised. Still, my young woman was helpful and efficient and gave me time to watch the theatre of a phone shop on a high street on a midweek day in a market town in Surrey.
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