If you’re ever driving down the East Lancs and see that Asda sign, do stop. But plan ahead. The queues can be long at peak times—every local knows that. Bring your own bag for the shop, because their plastic bags are flimsy and somehow cost a fiver. And if you see the man in the van with the sausage roll, give him a nod. He understands you, even if nobody else does.
So next time your fuel light flickers on and you’re near Haydock, just pull in. Buy a pasty. Question your life choices. And remember: the Asda petrol station isn’t a destination. It’s a pit stop on the road of life—one that, for a brief, glorious moment, makes you feel like everything is going to be okay. Or at least, that your tank is full and you have a gingerbread man. Same thing, really.
