Nursing a Coffee...

After 45 years on this earth I have mastered the art of making 1 pint of bitter last 1 hour when I need to wait for an appointment and it's cold outside.   But the pub on Teddington high street is closed so I am today nursing a large coffee in Cafe Nero... which boasts the best expresso this side of Milan and presents them in ridiculous looking shot glasses to the middle classes who wouldn't pop over the road to the pub for for a proper shot because it is seedy and closed.  Mrs Miggins is nowhere to be seen but I was served by a lady with Trainee Barrister on her shirt.  I congratulated her on being called to the bar at such an early age but she just looked at me strangely.  Looking about the patrons the art to making the single coffee last an hour or more seems to be to bring a newspaper with you and pretend to do the crossword or to be incredibly involved and interested in international affairs and politics to a level that is only possible when you have bugger all to do in the middle of the day.  Others pretend to be hard at work at their laptops but something tells me they don't all own tech startups.  Then again perhaps this is how they start... People stuck in human waiting rooms with nothing else to do... At least when nursing a pint in a pub corner you don't have to pretend that your mind is alive.  Staring into space and looking pissed or listening to an old alcoholic's hard luck story is all that is required.  Already my mouth is incredibly dry and I am developing a cough and the Trainee Barrister has whisked away they plate that used to have an upmarket bun on it.  This is going to be harder than it looks.... Perhaps if I pretend it it Jonathan's Coffee House I can start the next South Sea Bubble and make a mint... mind you I bet even the mints cost a bomb here so perhaps not...