A café, somewhere in England. It is empty, except for the Owner and a Man. The Man is, it seems fair to say, not welcome.
The scene has clearly been one of awkward silence for some time.
O Look, if you've finished your coffee I'm going to have to ask you to -
M Same again, please.
Bet you didn't have me down as a regular first time you saw me.
O no answer
M In truth, nor did I - but then, this wasn’t really my choice, was it?
O serves coffee
M Thank you - ah. Oh dear...
Bet you had me down as a Starbucks man, didn't you? Hmm? Yes? Well, you've got me there... you see, for all its criticism, Starbucks coffee is an altogether satisfying experience. They understand that you cannot, in this day and age, pass off boiling, brown-coloured water as a cup of coffee - something this country has never learned. It has a nice, er -
pours some onto the saucer
rich consistency. It is made using clean water from clean pipes - a sign of a healthy business - and served in clean cups. It is always available, however you want it made that at that very moment, and the barista always smiles at you while she's making it - presumably because her livelihood is not in jeopardy. Without any pretence of authenticity, or soul - whatever that means - it ticks all the boxes. It is an altogether American cup of coffee.
Though I suppose it would be unfair to accuse this cup of coffee of having any pretence of authenticity.
Bottoms up.
drinks
O When are you going to leave me alone?
End.
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