Coffee and madness

There’s a new mad woman at Starbucks. I was waiting for her to finish in the toilet this morning. I waited for 15 minutes until, finally, Sue (the manager) knocked on the door asking if she was alright. Apparently, she has started coming in every morning, not ordering anything, and spending 20 minutes in the loo. She then sits at one of the tables and stares blankly out of the window.

When I left Waitrose, she was still there, sitting and grinning like an inmate at Bedlam.

As I walked by, someone I know walked out the door and I smiled, said hi and waved. The mad woman smiled back and gave me a little wave like we were old friends. Meanwhile, the person I’d actually greeted smiled and went on her way. All very strange.

Poor Sue. She has to weigh up the whole Starbucks customer service ideal while putting up with various mad members of the public who seem to think her store is their own private sitting room. And that’s why I’d never work in the service industry.

Back at home, Mirinda was busy preparing for a residential where she was giving a talk today on the Purpose of a University. Naturally, I was her practice audience. Tomorrow she is going to give an autobiographic talk to the staff and, after dinner, she called and took me through it over the phone. She loves lecturing and is brilliant at it so I envisage no problems.

As for me, I spent a lot of time weeding the hot border, removing miles of grass roots and other nasty things. The dogs watched me, wondering why I didn’t just use my paws. Day-z, occasionally, came up and gave me a reassuring lick on the nose.

Sometimes I feel I’m never going to finish the hot border. Leaving it for a year to go rogue while the extension flowered before it, was not the best idea.