Notable points
to pick up on:
The sign for the
Starbucks has a short circuit so the large green looming thing reads
STA BUCK
OFFEE
It reminds me of
the Grinch and makes me think of stabbings. Saying that, it's all so nicely lit
with a cascade of white glittering fairylights that the whole thing leaves me
feeling confused and numb. It’s odd that when a sensation is confusing it might
leave you feeling nothing at all. They say that’s what psychopaths feel when
they witness something horrible which in all people, apart from the psychopath,
would stir an untoward feeling of empathy i.e. the death of a child or a man
under a train. I’m sure my feeling toward the Starbucks sign is incomparable to
feelings held by any psychopath so I feel safe in my sanity.
The waitress is
unusually pretty and looks like Diane Moore.
There is a man
in an anorak with thick lens glasses hanging out, placing his full body weight
on the banister of an indoor bridge. I’ve taken shelter in a shopping mall that
possesses a gigantic Matalan, TK Maxx, M&S, Starbucks, JD Sports, you get
the picture. He looks like a classic trainspotter and unfortunately his
bearing, in this shopping mall on his own wearing what looks like a wet
tracksuit, alludes to the image of the evil paedophile demon all the papers
keep throwing up these days. He is probably just the embodiment of someone
lonely – and it’s Christmas, pity.
One table is on
an early date, maybe even a first, perhaps they met online and that’s why they
chose this large yet inconspicuous location to meet for the first time. She
smiles a lot and flattens down her nicely dyed blonde hair and you can tell
he’s nervous because he keeps wiping his left palm on his left trouser leg. I
hope it’s going well, and it does seem to be - with all that eye contact,
bless.
Another table is
on a stale date. I don’t know if they’re married but they’ve certainly given up
trying, she talks to the chair and he nods at his cup.
My coffee has
grown cold and the prospects do not look great. The Pentland Firth is choppy
and the ferries are not getting in to their ports on time. I fear I may have a
seasick ride to Orkney; an island the Vikings looted and then left fallow for
the seaweed-eating goats to graze upon for millennia. Still, I can’t wait to
see the family.
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