First to come in are the office savvies. A day in the life. More choice from the meal deals early in the morning. They often buy fruit, like apples or bananas, rarely crisps. Save snacks for an afternoon spur of the moment. Keeps life exciting. Three items for £3.50. Beep. Beep. Beep. Usually take a bag. Don’t bring their own. We charge 5p now. They don’t mind. They don’t care one bit about the environment. Sometimes they say ‘hi’. Suits. Suits. Suits. Mostly men who tell the other men in the office early in the morning is the best time to buy a meal deal. Women come between 8 and 9 a.m. Mothers, car keys in hand, kids dropped at kindergarten, on their way to work or back to the chores. Baby-care items and health foods. Sometimes a baby perched on the hip. Always rushing. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. No more than ten items: no preferential basket queue required anyway at this time in the morning.

9 a.m. is when the unpredictable customers arrive. Now all of us are fully awake. This is when we keep tabs, anecdotes to share during the first break, 10:30 a.m. Today: a security man from the building site near by, with his safety jacket inside out, buying a six-pack of Peperami Hot; a slightly dishevelled, noble-looking old lady buying a microwaveable hamburger with bun and an orange Lucozade; a child with a mullet who asks me if I can call his mum on the interphone; and two very cute twelve-year-old twins with matching plaits but beads in different shades of pink and blue, clearly bunking off school and going to get in trouble. Mercè has already had security over to expel a drunk man buying a discounted six-pack of Strongbow. She’s going to win this round.