Late night shopping #1

Time has no meaning in the world of the 24 hour shopping centre.

I went last night at midnight to the ASDA in Southgate, North London; a sprawling giant adult candy store, open non-stop except for a short period on a Sunday evening.

As you walk through the giant electric doors, it's like entering a strange new dimension. Clocks run backwards, society is broken.

I found myself staring at cheese. I have no idea of how much time had passed. I could spend my whole life there, reading the different prices of cheeses, reading how much they cost per kilo, not taking any of it in. Lobotomised by the choice.

The strange, half asleep, caffeine fuelled arbiters of the shop shuffle around with huge metal cages occasionally doing something that looks useful although I can't be sure that they actually work here. Maybe they came in like me, wide-eyed and confused. They've been in the shop for so long that they've started to take on the appearance of the shop, crafting name badges from bits of thrown away plastic packaging, forming a complex hierarchical system of self filler, checkout operative and (for those who have been there the longest) store manager.

I start to replace a few fallen items back on to the shelf. Maybe I could integrate too. Maybe I could get in as a self filler. I look about for something to disguise the telltale signs that I am not "one of them".

It's at this point, the lady friend, who transcends the 24hour shopping dimension (and therefore is immune to it's hypnotic power) grabs my hand and guides me and the trolley to the self service checkout.

I'm back now.......I think. But I know in my heart that this could just be a hallucination and I could well be still in the dairy section, shivering gently, gazing at Camembert.