Had an idle chat in the car the other day about my perfect cafe. I surprised myself with the number of ideas I immediately had for such a thing. Almost as if I’d been thinking about it for years.
In no particular order then, in JB’s cafe…
You have to dress like a grown-up after 5pm.
You can have an espresso or a martini, but you cannot have an espresso martini.
Or Sav Blanc.
Writers, of course, eat for free.
Artists can pay for their meals with some artwork, but only if they’re very good.
No poets.
Dogs are okay, but not in handbags.
Kids are allowed before 5pm but we do not serve no babycinos or a kids menu. They take their coffee and steak like everyone else.
No real estate agents.
There are real newspapers, but none by Murdoch.
No cyclists.
No bookings.
The table in the corner with the good sightlines is reserved for me. Always.
Me is writer. You see me good writer. Me too hungry. Verry hungry. Where is you caffe!
what's the wifi password?