It’s my coffee, you can laugh if you want to

Speaking of being British and stiff upper lipped, I found myself tutting but not complaining in a local eatery earlier, following Zee’s jabs. (It wasn’t a pleasant experience for either of us but I think we were both quite brave.)

cappuccino coffee italyI had decided to stop off for a coffee to calm my frayed nerves, and I duly ordered a decaf skinny cappuccino to sit and do some people-watching with whilst Zee snoozed. But when I ordered it, the guy behind the bar didn’t hear me properly, asked me to repeat myself and then laughed! And laughed again!

‘Alright Chuckles,’ I felt like saying, ‘I do in fact feel like a bit of a tit ordering such a drink, but my baby can’t have caffeine and I’m a bit fat at the minute, okay?’

Obviously I said none of this and just fumed indignantly, until I remembered not to take myself so seriously and calm down. I’m still boycotting Starbucks though. Why, I mean why would I want to tell them my name when all I want from them is a coffee – it’s just a little bit awkward, isn’t it? And anyway, my mother always told me never to tell strangers my name.


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