Bow down before me...........

....for I am your Queen.

It's that time of year again. Thousands of working class people have converged on our village for their summer holiday as their workplace factories shut down for a compulsory week or two.

They come from all over the North of of England with their extended families for summer-fun in a mobile home next to our amazing pebble-ridge. They leave behind factory life and smoky coal-stacks, bingo halls and working-mens clubs to wake up hung-over late in the day to the sound of sea-gulls.

I adore these people. They really know how to treat a shop-girl.

For most of the year, I have neither a name nor a face. Most people cast their money on the counter with nary a 'please' or a smile. My holiday makers are so different, they come from the poorest areas of our country and take the cheapest holiday possible. They research their holiday gift purchases carefully, trawling all the gift shops for a canny deal. They come to find, over the week that they always get a warm welcome, interested conversation and an opportunity to barter with me.

Consequently, I find that my title changes over the course of the week. I begin the week being called 'my pet' which is in itself a welcome change from anonymity. By Wednesday I am refered to as 'my duck' which I find very sweet but by Friday I am undisputed Queen of the village. Every other purchase on a Friday elicits a 'thankyou, Queen'.

Bow down before me.....