Happy Christmas (Door Is Over)

Snow is all well and good until it outstays it's welcome. It's like a friend you only see every few months. They come round to your house, eat all your food and stay for a few days, unwilling to make an exit until you have to boot them out with a lie, bounding out of the house claiming your mum's ill. The snow had started around midday yesterday, and showed no signs of stopping. That, agreeably made the whole country sing 'I'm Dreaming Of a White Christmas' and 'Let It Snow' in unison. For the first time, our supermarket had advertised that we'd actually open on Boxing Day, amongst the sneers and groans of the colleagues, until they realised they'd be paid double time. It's not a very difficult decision when they were given that information. Work or eat food all day until you're ill, and talk to boring family members.

It's funny you never see the other side of snowfall in films. The ones that show the modern American family buying gifts and singing under log fires until late, sipping mulled wine until they fall asleep. But if they were true to real life, they wouldn't be able to get to the superstores because they couldn't manage to get their car out of the drive way. They wouldn't be able to log fire on as their delivery of kinder-ling got stuck on the motorway somewhere. And they'd be no singing or drinking, as your brother and uncle would have a massive argument and caused the whole family to fall out with each other.

But maybe I'm being cynical. Maybe I'm a bit of a Scrooge. And quite possibly, I'm pissed off because I had to come in and work today. Glen the greeter wasn't in. We had no security. So it was up to me and Alex to open the store at 10am and let people in. And like you, I didn't think the good people of this town would want to come to a supermarket on Boxing day, but believe me, they do. I assumed people would be...well...let me think....

• Asleep
• Still drunk
• Too tired
• No money

...and in general, uninterested in general retail at that time in their lives. But there were people outside, waiting for the store to open. I'm talking everyone. Old men in big overcoats, middle aged woman with cigarettes in their hands, whole family's waiting to get in a spend what money they had left. Even the local homeless fellow joined in the cue, admittedly to get warm and steal the cheap mince pies.

It was about ten to ten when people started knocking on the glass, asking what time the doors opened. That let to embarrassing mouthing gestures from myself, making my lips say 'ten' and holding out all of my fingers. Alex rolled up all of the shutters whilst I took the motorised trolleys off charge. Soon came more banging on the glass, the customers outside mumbling to each other in a soft whine.  After a few more mimes and finger holding, I took to just pointing at the sign on the window, which stated the complete opening times of the holiday season. Should have done that from the beginning. 10am came around and I slowly made my way to the door. I put the key in the door but I stopped halfway in.

'Hurry up, mate!' A voice said.

'Hang on, the locks frozen.'

This led to more mumblings and groans from the crowd. It suddenly felt like dawn Of The Dead. The only human left trying to keep out the blood thirsty zombies. The only difference being that I couldn't let them in, the lock was jammed and the key wouldn't budge.

'I thought you were open at ten?' I heard a voice.

'I am. We are.'

Alex scampered over to me.

'What's up?'

'The key won't move.'

A few people started banging on the glass from the outside, shouting words of panic and frustration.

'I'll go and get some di-icer of the shop floor.'

'Hurry up, Alex.'

The crowd eased off, moving back a few paces, waiting for the doors to open up. Alex had been a few minutes getting the di-icer, enough time for the odd person to wander up to store and mouth the same question to me.

'What time are you open?'

'Ten.' I said bluntly.

'...It's five past.'

'I know.'

'If you know, why aren't you open?'

'Because.'

'Because?'

'Because I can't open.'

'You're open at ten.'

'I KNOW!'

Alex was over seconds later, spraying the lock until it covered it and the key. I twiddled the key a bit until they latch clicked out of position. It wasn't that loud, but the the crowd behind the glass made an audible sigh of relief and joy, as if Christmas had come yet again. I twisted the key a bit more, and pushed both doors away from each other, but the slammed to a halt an inch apart, making the crowd make a collective 'Oooo' sound. It was like I had my own chorus in a play. 

'What's up now?' Alex asked.

'It's the ice. It's frozen the doors at the bottom.'

I clanged the doors back and forwards a few times but it wouldn't move any further out. The crowd started moving closer, a few of them got hold of the doors and started pushing it, sometimes a bit too much.

'Hang on, mate. You'll damage the door.' I said to a rather middle class looking gentleman in a green overcoat.

'It's better than it being shut. We need to get in.'

Yeah, because goodness knows you can't go without a jar of cranberry sauce for the day. Another face appeared in-between the crack in the door.

'What time do you open?'

'Ten.'

'It's nearly ten past.'

'I know.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'But it's meant to be...'

'THE DOOR IS STUCK!'

I was breathing quite heavily, and I guess all the questions repeating themselves over and over got me a little heated. 

'There's another store down the road.' The middle class man said calmly.

That made the crowd groan in unison and walk away, led by the man in the green overcoat. At ten to eleven we finally got the doors open. It was such a pity we got absolutely no customers all day.