There is something a bit odd about petrol station shops. I think it must be the strange mixture of goods for sale; engine oil, condoms, milk. And those family sized bags of sweets jutting out at you from those sticky outy wire arms, shouting 'Take me! Take me!' (lucky they're near the condoms) when all you really wanted was 20 litres of unleaded.
Everyone's on their way somewhere else, which gives an unsettled feeling - a bit like that 'non-vibe' of an airport. The best places are always at the end of the line. Everyone's there because they want to be, which makes it feel calm.
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