Sometimes, I like to pop out with the wife
She pulls me all around the shops
To look at bits of bling and shiny little things.

After several hours, my feet begin to hurt
But I found this place called Costa Coffee,
Trust me, it could have been worse.

We queued up and looked at treats
And witnessed two flies having sex
In between the biscuits and sweets.
The staff were all sweating and mumbling
While some guy pulled out his boxershorts…
And sniffed his finger, like he was on one of those chat shows.

I looked at the wife and we both smiled,
As we peered out
Into the abyse of dirty choked tables.
But we continued through the line
Until our time finally arrived.

“Two Americanos – please”
“Large!” – the woman replied.
“A medium will do – thank you”
And then we waited in a different line.

We sat on the best looking seats
And used baby wipes
To clean up others people’s deeds.

We both gazed into each others eyes
And out popped a jinx which wasn’t a surprise.
The words we spoke muttered through the skies…
“What a fucking shit hole”
We both replied.

With that, we never returned
And made a lovely coffee at home
With our own tiny but significant swirl.

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