The effeminate young guy behind the till* in Starbucks this morning was more camp than a row of tents as he took our orders and passed them to the young, sour faced girl lurking behind the machinery.
While we were all stood there waiting for the miserable barista to emerge from behind the steam with our coffees, a middle aged, slightly overweight, greasy haired man came in wearing a trench coat and a creepy smile.
He ordered a coffee and started really flirting with the young guy behind the counter. It soon became evident they knew each other. There was some giggling, some pouting and the young guy’s eyelids were being batted more than cricket ball.+
It was becoming uncomfortable to watch so I started looking around the café at anything to distract me. My eyes eventually rested on the supermarket plastic bag that the greasy man was holding. There was something written on it.
“Enjoy Every Mouthful”
* Cash register (for our American friends)
+ Baseball (for our American friends)