I have, on occasion, (admittedly through gritted teeth) had sympathy for those who simply cannot grasp that ‘cafe’ does not neccessarily equal ‘provider of hot and filling sustenance of the Soup and Toasted Sandwich variety’.
I, too, am frustrated when hungry.
I, too, could possibly, under such circumstances (if also blind drunk having suffered a concussion when falling off a 3 storey roof having been attacked by a rabid, vampire-pigeon) mistake the words “I’m terribly sorry, we only sell cake. Can I suggest Offshore/Sonny & Vito’s/Great Western Road?” for “What? What? I can’t hear you! Shout it louder and roll your eyes and my answer will change!”
Until now. Now I will fulfill my percieved role as a purveyor of hot food and beverages.
And what, exactly, has changed? Have I discovered a hitherto unsuspected love of my fellow man? Or woman? Or kitten? You know - any sentient being with a disposable income and the balls to ask me twice for a bacon roll? (Or something small and cute that meows; either/or).
- Err, no.
Have I won the Lotto, and decided to economically ’share’ my wealth by being nice?
- Very unlikely. Unless the ticket was gifted to me by visiting aliens with superduper powers of hypnosis.
No. I have chosen to finally stoop to actually providing what people want* because Nisbetts is having a MASSIVE sale and I’ve managed to buy a soup kettle and a panini grill for less than the personal debt of a graduating medical student. And it’s cold. And I’ve become accustomed to eating regularly.
So, to recap:
SOUP AND TOASTED SANDWICHES NOW AVAILABLE!
* although I recieved a card from Jack, referencing our extended closure, who asked for:
“…an open Biblo so I don’t have to write my holiday cards at some nondescript cafe in the West End where people are nice to me.”
Hmmm.
Posted by biblocafe
Posted by biblocafe
Posted by biblocafe