Three years ago, I got one of those loyalty card things from Cafe Nero. Earlier this month, I actually managed to fill it and get me a free mug of coffee. Nice. In the three weeks since, I’ve managed to fill another one.
Have I turned into everything I hate? Maybe, but if everyone else can be ignorant about their twattish behaviour, then why the fuck can’t I?
Anyway, much like I noted in my first post on nightclubs, it doesn’t matter where in the country you go, you will always find the same generic people in the same generic coffee house chains. They include:
They can either be far happier than someone working in the service industry should be, especially seeing as they deal pretty much exclusively with self-important lower middle-class arse-hats all day, or they are no eye-contact making monotoned zombies that make you feel about as welcome as the lovely folk in airport security. The further into a city you get, the more likely you are to meet the latter.
The laptop wanker
Some of you are probably thinking that I’m sitting in a coffee house while I write this, aren’t you? Yeah, well i’m not, because I’m not a complete prick. So this lot can’t afford to pay for a home internet connection but can buy overly expensive coffee everyday? Hmm. They always seem to be using a Macbook or a wanky new tablet device too, right? Double hmm.
No matter what the Daily Mail or the Torygraph tries to make you believe, society on the whole is kind. Your screaming child may receive polite smiles but inside everyone around you wishes you and your awful kids would fuck off so they can enjoy their drinks in peace. Look at the little fucker sipping their ‘babyccino’ (the person that named that needs to be poked in the eye with a shit-covered stick too, by the way). If it’s a boy, I bet their name is something like Hugo, Jonah or Rupert. A girl will be Beatrice, Regina or something equally as unfortunate or something hyphenated and its parents will insist on calling it by its full name. Better change that order to take-away.
This is the loser that has ‘their seat’ and ‘their table’, knows the names of all the members of staff and rather than find that depressing, is proud of the fact. If you’re sitting in ‘their seat’, best believe they will make the staff aware of this fact and they will do it with all the passive-aggression they can muster. Like the above entry, they don’t seem to have an ‘inside’ voice, meaning that both their order and their displeasure at the seating arrangement is bellowed at full volume, regardless of how busy the place is.
I’ll get my latte on later this week and jot down some more.