I just walked across the corner to A&M Variety to buy cream for my decaf. The store had been cleaned and scrubbed, and the shelves were sparsely filled. The dour old East Indian man had disappeared from behind the counter. His sombre relatives no longer skulked beyond the back door and the dark, hot smell of their food had evaporated like a spirit
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welcome to Van's neighbourhood and may you have many blessed adventures and moments with your new store.
I always imagine a lot of neat stories would come from such a career. I remember growing up the corner store was really, if not the heart than at the very least a main valve of our little community.
At least for a child with a love for pixie stix and black cats it was.
:)
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I've always admired people who made friends easily with the people who worked in places like this.
My 13-year-old is addicted to Pixie Stix.
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