It’s a well-known fact that Mrs. Shopkeeper is pretty much tied to the till, and that Mr. Shopkeeper is her (usually willing) deputy. But occasionally there is another face behind the counter: Mr. S’ kid brother, aka Amir. NOTE: HE IS NOT THEIR SON. NEVER WAS, NEVER WILL BE. THEY ARE FAR TOO YOUNG TO HAVE A SON OF THAT AGE/SIZE. Anyway, he’s the one that gets bullied into shop duty when Mr. and Mrs. S. manage one of their rare joint excursions. He’s actually brilliant with customers and great at merchandising stuff, but he really doesn’t like doing it. It’s not good for his street cred. And. He’d rather be playing football…
Defining physical characteristics: Well he has a lot more hair than his big brother (although not as much as Master Shopcat, with whom he is on tummy-tickling terms). He is proficient at gaining and losing weight in a worryingly short space of time: something to do with the football season, wethinks.
Often to be found: On the phone. Rarely to be found off the phone. Usually arranging fixtures (of a football or fiancee related nature), sometimes wheeling and dealing. Not that we eavesdrop or anything. Looking for his car keys. Moving his boy-toy-car from A to B in a never-ending battle to outwit Peckham’s traffic wardens. Tinkering: he’s a dab hand at DIY and is forever buying new tools. Oh, and eating. He likes food.
What to say to him: “Spurs are doing well, then.”
“How’s your team doing this season?”
“Are these your car keys?”
Best not say: “Ever thought about shop-keeping as a career?”
Potted CV: Amir’s a real South London boy, although he’s Iranian through and through. He’s a big softee off the pitch, especially when it comes to his lovely lady, Little Liz, and anything to do with cats. But don’t let on that we told you so. He’s a computer whizz kid, although he constantly denies this (as do, we suspect, most computer experts), and has a fine business head on his shoulders. One day he’ll be a millionaire – but it won’t be through shopkeeping.
Coming next: Mrs. Shopkeeper