Tom from next door told me he had been to the Brexit cafe and had a nice cup of tea and a figgie cake. He was delighted. We hadn’t planned on going to the Brexit cafe but we were staying out to keep away from the cleaning lady and still had another half hour on the streets, so we thought, all right then, so be it, let’s try out the Brexit cafe. I call it The Brexit cafe but it calls itself The Tea House or something like that. It only sells tea, no coffee. It writes No Coffee up on the door in a panoply of fonts.. And it’s full of union jacks. So obviously you put two and two together. We went in. There was a man sitting reading Henry James. So far, so consistent. I fancied a nice pudding. Apparently, or so we thought, they did basic builder’s tea, but when we looked at the menu it said Earl Grey £7/9 (£7 for a cup/ £9 for a pot as I harrowingly understood it), Figgie cake or pie or pudding or whatever they were calling it £10. There was still time. Quickly, silently, we extracted ourself from this place. About 300 yards away, on Black Prince Road, we found another cafe where the bacon roll was £3.20 and the teas were £1.75 each. My relief was palpable. Next time I get to see Tom it will be a case of let me tell you what almost happened to us yesterday, young man. Talk about close shaves!

http://www.peoplearerubbish.com