|Pret a rubbish, I call it.
||[Jan. 31st, 2007|09:52 am]
Listen in, listen Ian!
I usually aim to leave the house between ten past and quarter past eight,|
which on average gets me to work at nine. This morning I left about five
minutes early, which thanks to a bus being at the stop just when I arrived
there, and then a train being in the station just when I arrived saw me
getting out of the station at the other end at about twenty five to nine.
The only correct thing to do at this point was obviously to
turn up at go
work nice and early, showing enthusiasm and eagerness to please
looking for some breakfast. I'm not really a fan of Pret a
Manger* but on Sunday I ended up in one out of desperation, and
found that they do a quite nice bacon and egg croissant thing, so I thought
that would do nicely. Except the branch on Long Acre opposite my work
doesn't seem to do them. Stupid shop. I made do with an egg mayonnaise roll
from the newsagent which is all very well but y'know, I'd built myself up
for bacony croissant thing.
*Yes, call it by its name. I don't hold with people being on
first name terms with a chain of sandwich shops.