Right on queue.


Sometimes the briefest of conversations can cheer you up.

I have got into the habit of visiting my favourite coffee shop almost daily. It offers a change of scenery if I’ve got nothing else on – and I find it much easier to get on with any work that needs doing, or my writing, when I’m out of the house.

It’s also a good way of pretending I’m not waiting for my agent to ring.

I visit the coffee shop regularly enough to have a “usual”.  All I need is a Ted Danson-a-like behind the counter for the transition to be complete.

I’m usually in my favourite haunt by mid-morning. Today I arrived a little later – and, for no particular reason, was soon getting irritated by the woman in front of me in the queue. 

She had one of those old-fashioned shopping-bag-on-wheels things in tow (the elderly's trolley-of-choice) – and despite being tiny, she still somehow managing to fill up the entire aisle, leaving me no sufficient space to stand.

I like to get wound up by nothing; it’s one of my favourite pastimes. I quietly stewed in my own juices and waited my turn to be served.

After a moment I started to sense that she was looking my way. I subtly turned to check, and found her gazing up at me, beaming from ear to ear.

“I’m having the loveliest day”, she said.

All tension was swiftly diffused; you can’t really be annoyed with someone after that.

We had a little chat whilst we waited. She filled me in on what had made her day so lovely - nothing huge, really; just a little shopping – but the way she retold it made it all sound delightful. Then we shook hands, I said that I hope her day continued to be nice, and we went our separate ways.

Note to self: don’t be such a miserable git. Also, see if you can source one of those old lady shopping trolleys.




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