You stand aside to let the woman pass, and head into the shop.
It's a little larger than it looks for the outside, and dark and cool after the heat of the day. It's lined with shelves of household goods, and a few coolers of beer and soft drinks near the back, and there's a few customers milling around. Theres' a board on the wall between the counter and the door, covered with want adds and local advertisements.
A plump middle aged Indian woman with heavy boobs and a pleasant face stands behind the counter. You remember one of your friends many unlikely stories about this town, about the time he went into a shop and the two Indian girls who were running the place - the eighteen year old twin daughters of the owner, if you believe it - accused him of shop lifting and wouldn't let him go till he'd gone down on them for an hour each.
As they were about to let him go, their mother arrived home, told him she'd phone the police if he didn't come upstairs with her, and spent the rest of the night screwing him blind, and he probably would have got more the next day if he hadn't slipped out of the building before she woke up.
The woman behind the counter looks prim and sensible and a little stern, it's hard to imagine this is who your friend was talking about, even if the story was true....
She looks across at you, smiles and winks.
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