Postscript
I thought the takeaway from today's café trip would be the unusual way in which the handwash in the gents is shooting out of the dispenser. It flies out at an angle and over my right shoulder, forcing me to step back, knock the dispenser with my left hand while raising my right arm past my head to catch the handwash, like a 'keeper tipping the ball over the bar.
How the hell did they fill this thing up?
But no, that wasn't what I'll be remembering about today. As I paid for today's two lattes, I discovered the coffee has risen by 50p in a single day. That's the steepest rise in my 22 years here. It was inevitable, gentrification, the cost of living crisis, and I'm in serious danger of finally being priced out of this place. £3 for a coffee, anywhere, is just not on. I know, as Seb K told me, that they just couldn't keep the prices down any longer, but still, it's killed me. I wish that just as prices go up when businesses feel they have no alternative, that when the cost of that product goes down, businesses would act accordingly.
It's definitely put a dampener on my day. The café helps me keep my mood up and always has since I first wondered in there back in August 2001, but £3? Really?
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