A Cautionary tale. Quiet members of this publog – though their quietness may be explained by their immenent nuptuals – are drinking mates Kate and John. Now hardier and more committed drinkers I thought it would be tough to find, but obviously the stress of their forthcoming marriage caused them some sort of collective foolishness. Mooching around the Oxford Street area they got thirsty and for some godforesaken reason they decided not to hunt down a pint but go to a Starbucks.

A Starbucks. A coffee shop. A corporate, nasty coffee shop at that. The coffee shop equivalent of a Rat And Parrot pub (souless, with limited beer and no atmosphere). Well I daresay they would have never told a disapproving soul like myself, except the story has a cruel twist. No strangers to playing fast and loose with personal possessions whilst in a pub, the pair spend ten minutes in a sordid coffee joint and Kate gets her bag nicked. Two days before her wedding.

Moral: avoid coffee shops. They are hotbeds of crime.