This past Thursday, I actually left the kitchen table to go out for something to eat and found myself in the local Waterstones plus latte plus laptop. I figured I’d write up an interview while I sat there only to find that the Nero they have doesn’t have free WiFi.

This is shit.

Next door is Costa Coffee and next door to them is the 3 store with a wide open field of WiFi. How dumb can a company get? Not only that but there’s HMV on the other side with an Orange store operating and across the road, the O2 store. Surely it must have occurred to them that this might be a bad idea?

Anyway - on my way out I spotted the new Lincoln Barclay thriller so went back on Saturday to pick it up. I’m quite often served by this guy who must weigh about 7 stone when he’s wet. Eleanor thinks his name is Ryan. I say he looks more like a Dominic. I’m not sure why this has become important but it has. I know we could probably just ask him but where’s the fun in that? There’s something clandestine about trying to figure it out - he has no name badge and his name doesn’t appear on the till receipt either. There’s a part of me that never wants to know though - I don’t much like things that have had their mystique shattered...