Monday, 7 December 2009

Insecure Coffee

So there I was, noncholantly going about my business in Birkenhead on a wander, and I happened upon a coffee shop where I took the executive decision that my desire for caffeine must be quenched. So I went in and joined the queue to place my order. That's how I play the game, you see. Upon ordering my lucsiously over priced coffee, I paid the man, and he handed it to me saying 'be careful with the lid. It might be insecure.'

Now. Immediately this alarmed me. Never in my many years of existance had I ever even contemplated contemplating the awareness of drinks containers, and here I was being told that the lid of the one I had been handed was insecure. Many things crossed my mind. Did I have to stroke it often, and tell it that it mattered? Did I have to keep it on me at all times, and use it on all other take out coffees I consumed?

My next thought was that my weekend was probably a bit wild, and perhaps some sleep might be a good idea.

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