I lingered at the door,

What the hell do I do?

I’d never found it difficult to buy myself a brew.

 

So, in I went,

hell bent on doing this thing.

 

I queued by the food and stewed.

 

I reached the altar,and the man in black addressed me.

 

'Sir?'

 

I think his name was Ed.

 I said

‘Can I have a pot of tea?’

In a foreign twang I thought he said

  they only sold coffee.

 

My hands became all clammy, I was sprawling on a pin,

I looked up at the menu, where the fuck do I begin.

 

I was Luke with Han in the stars wars bar when the musak stopped playing.

The punters put their cups down to hear what I was saying.

 

Erm….what do I say, what do I say?

 

Now, I‘d watched a bloke in front of me get served, so, unnerved I went for it.

 

‘Can I get…

a tall Frappuccino,  and a tiny tin of mints,

and some coffee beans in chocolate?’

 

Ed gave me a glimpse.

 

 

Mistaking this for friendliness or some form of male bonding

My mouth had taken over and I couldn’t wind my tongue in,

 

I was on a roll.

 

'Can I have roll?’

 

‘A roll?’ said Ed

‘Yes, like a bun, a muffin…?’

.….Nothin’…..

(A French stick you dick!)

 

‘Do you mean a Panini?’

 (Yes, fuck it)

 ‘Yes!!’

I was a mess.

 

‘Toasted?' Said Ed 'baked?'

 

Baked? Cheeky twat, I’d not smoked weed in years.

It became clear there and then he’d nothing between the ears.

 

All the punters were laughing now, a crowd had gathered round,

Every fucking hipster had put their I-phones down.

Even Ed was grinning, obviously embarrassed

He’d met his intellectual match I could see that he was harassed.

 

So I finally got my drink,

My beans

and my mints,

A cold uncooked long barm cake

And another knowing glimpse

 

But when it came to paying,

I said 'you're having a laugh',

still, I paid the fifteen fifty.

He was also shit at maths.