Pret a Pressure Cooker

I'm sitting in chaos, utter chaos...in Pret in Waterloo station. It's not a war zone granted, but it kind of feels like it. People are walking, talking, gesticulating and frothing milk like the world's going to end.

When did the age of 'instant' start taking over our lives. Before embarking on a journey, entering a meeting or even going for a leisurely stroll, my initial thought always defaults to coffee - have I got one, can I get one, how long until I can have another one. I mean, how did I cope before Costa and the in house office coffee machine?!

We've never had such an instant selection of stuff, and technology has enabled us to find it, order it and pay for it within seconds.

So you'd think it would give us time back, but based on the pace of play within Pret right now it seems to have done the opposite.

This environment makes me feel like an old person in a nightclub; too noisy, nowhere to sit and a bloody great queue full of people in my personal space!

"I'm not getting old, I'm just becoming a classic..." - Anon

Parents 'R' not us

Why is it, that the majority of people who have children appear to lack any sort of parenting ability? On top of being useless, they then decide to take their offspring on an aeroplane?! Damn these breeders!

I am currently surrounded by 3 month old twins (owned by some obnoxious princess who insists on walking up and down whilst cooing), a snivelling brother and sister under the age of three (who appear to have every possible electronic device known to man) and another pair of snotty, nappy clad girls (owned by a couple of wet middle aged women who wouldn't look out of place with Patsy and a bottle of Smirnoff), who are currently using the seats as a trampoline and the aisle as a running track.

Whilst being stuck in the middle of this chaos, I've noticed that those responsible for these uncontrollable bundles of 'joy' appear oblivious, happily sipping wine, talking baby shite and ignoring my death stare...quite frankly, my cats would behave better on a plane!

Perhaps you grow an invisible cloak when you have children, one that makes you oblivious to those around you, the irritation your offspring cause and of course one that reflects the death stare...damn those breeders!