CHAOS BEFORE PREDICTABILITY

It’s night. Sleep is for the dead, the old and koalas. We need coffee, but living in London’s suburbs you learn a valuable lesson – no where sells it after dark. Surely this is when it’s needed most.

Don’t tell me it’s not true, I’ve seen films That makes it almost fact. People are ALWAYS drinking coffee somewhere throughout the night. So why will Bromley and Croydon not allow this? Before setting out for the hunt, we settle for McDonald’s claim to warm, brown beverages.

“What is this horse-shit” was my immediate reaction. This was not improved when I find what I think is a prize tap on the side of the cup. But no – that’s a ‘loyalty card’ saying I can get my 7th cup for free. I’ve had one cup, I’ve made my mistake and I won’t be having more.

Also take note: when it says “Caution Very Hot” on the side, don’t let it spill down your hand in the car. It’s the only thing on the cup that’s true.

Filled with the nation’s poorest excuse for coffee, it’s time to find some. But where? Gatwick, that’s where. Yes, it’s over 30 miles away and 11pm, but who’s counting? Other than the milometer, no one.

Thankfully, around ten miles in comes a sign that shines like a beacon of hope. Just as the wise men must have gazed to the sky, our eyes fix upon the immortal words “Costa Coffee – 1 mile”. We’ve beaten the system; screw you, Bromley, we’re getting our coffee.

One problem remains, what to have? Double Espresso seems a good idea. As soon as we find out what the sweet Christ those other options are, we’ll get one. “So, Mr Coffee Man, what is this fancyschamncy Espresso derivative?” Espresso with cream, you say? Seems it could have just said that ad saved a bit of everyone’s time. Pretentious titles aside, we’re handed our teeny, tiny cups with matching teeny tiny lids and enjoy.

Now, try sleeping.