Anne-Marie

Again in a supermarket, this time a more upmarket one in a smarter part of town, I am buying a baguette with proscuitto.  The lady serving me has black hair piled on top of her head and a pair of thin dark glasses.  I remark on the busyness of the shop.  She agrees and says that she has been called off her section to help deal with it.  I ask what her section is.  She replies 'ambients'.  I think.  I say 'Sorry?'.  She replies 'ambience'.  Perhaps.  I say 'ambience'?  She says 'yes'.  I am none the wiser.  I make use of my confusion to ask her middle name.  She gives me a wry look and an answer.  'Are you French?'  I ask.  'Not likely', she replies.