Six Hours on a Sunday — Epoche A2
Sunday is my favourite shift at the supermarket, and it took me a month to see why. The reason is a number: 280 square metres. In England and Wales, a shop bigger than that may open on a Sunday for six hours only, between 10 in the morning and 6 in the evening. Our store chose 10 to 4. The corner shop by the bus stop is small, so it can stay open all day. In Scotland the rule does not exist — a Glasgow supermarket can sell bread at eight on a Sunday evening. Six hours give the day its shape. At ten the doors open and people are already waiting, lists in hand. Nobody drifts along the aisles. By half past three the announcements start — 'the store will close in thirty minutes' — and the queues grow long and quiet. At four the doors are locked, and by ten past four the car park is nearly empty. On a Monday we are open fifteen hours and no one hurries. On a Sunday, everyone in the building knows what time it is. I used to think the rule was an old idea about keeping Sunday special. Maybe it began that way. But watch a whole town shop inside one short window, and you see it differently: Sunday is the only day my shop has a closing time that anybody feels.