The smell reminded me of greasy chips and greasy chip lives, fat-spattered gowns, asking for the scrapings for 20p and covering them with vinegar and tomato sauce and thinking it was a treat from Charlie's Chippy. Friday night occasional treats too, and the inevitable dilemma: what to have with the chips? Fish, sausage, cheese and onion pie, or steak and kidney pie? And what to go on the chips: gravy, beans, mushy peas, or curry sauce? That was old me in Urmston, but I remember walking past Charlie's years later, towards the park, newly veggie and being more interested in the health shop than Charlie’s chips (the health shop’s gone now; so has the park; Urmston’s shit nowadays), and it was obviously a new life for me, something I wasn’t used to, because I was thirsty and bought a carton of chocolate milkshake in the health shop, but nearly gagged when I tried to drink it, it was so thick and clotted and curdle-gelid, and my friend agreed it must be off; but then I noticed it wasn't milkshake anyway, it was ‘chocolate dessert’, some kind of cold custard, and it reminded me that there was lots to learn, and what you grow up with doesn't amount to the whole world of choices that exist.