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|At Starbucks recently|
|Written by Cindy-Lou Dale|
|Friday, 16 November 2007 13:06|
Starbucks in London’s West End is always crowded and finding a seat is a challenge. Lady luck was clearly smiling on me that day as a space became available. I nodded in greeting at my table companion and then continued doing what British people do best – ignore one another.
I sipped my coffee and relaxed with a London Times. I unwrapped one of the biscuits I had purchased with my coffee and ate it. The gentleman across from me glared at me in disapproval. I ignored him but quietly wondered what he found so upsetting. I unwrapped another biscuit and again was fiercely considered, this time his glowering stare was followed with a huff. He got up, removed the wrapping off my last biscuit, leaned towards me and slowly inserted the entire biscuit into his mouth. He then collected his overcoat and umbrella and stormed out.
I stared after him in disbelief and asked the approaching waitress if she’d seen what just happened. She smiled and handed me a plate of cellophane wrapped biscuits saying, “… you left these on the counter.”