On Monday 3rd Jan. the sleepy village of Gatley, in the Principality of Stockport, gets it very own, bona fide, purpose built, dedicated Coffee Shop! wearecoffeefix.com/
This afternoon, I accosted the lady proprietor of CoffeeFix: the comely, fetching, Claira, and put to her, a few pertinent questions.
“Is Coffee Fix a WiFi hot spot?”
“In the process of being set up…as we speak!”
“Ahh ah! I’m impressed. Things are looking good.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Tell me.” I said, “What is your attitude towards…writers say, who may see CoffeeFix as an interesting place to write in, an inspirational location, a place to observe life, watch people? How would you feel if a writer came in at 9am and worked till 1pm, having bought only one cup of coffee?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On who they were. If it was, Martin Amis…Jonathan Franzen…Hilary Mantell, and the like, they could sit there all day, they’d be good for business.”
“I was thinking…more along the lines of…me.”
The lovely Claira, looked me up and down a few times, and said, “Nah. I think I’d like you to drink up and bugger off. Don‘t want the place looking like a Salvation Army hostel, do we?”
“I do have a beard. People may think I’m George Bernard Shaw.”
“He’s dead…but nice try.”
Fear not fellow Scrivenerati! On Monday morning I shall be gate crashing the Grand Opening of, CoffeeFix, and flying the Scrivener standard.
Till then mes amis
Adieu
Vic
Oh! The shame of it, Mr nom! The shame of it!
I won’t be surprised if the fracas, makes the local paper. They shouldn’t be let out unsupervised.
Embarrassed Fluff
As you can see below, twas only a minor altercation. Angela had a spasm of petulence/peevishness, nothing more.The mousehound exaggerates.It went something like this:
“What y’ doin’?”
“I’m going to write a best-selling novel.”
“With my laptop?”
“What d’ y’ mean…your…laptop? I thought it was…our…laptop.”
“I’m not responsible for what you think. Give it to me!”
“Why are y’ doing this to me, y’ philistine!? You, who’s just come back from Cuba, having spent a full afternoon, getting ratarsed in Bar Floridita in Havana, a shrine to Ernest Hemingway!! This could be the break I’ve been waiting for, y’ bimbo!” I may just as well’ve been talking to the wall, for all the good it did.
“IwantmylaptopIwantmylaptopIwantmylaptopgiveittome!”
It was at this juncture, that a passing Community Police Support Officer, was called in and asked to escort us off the premises. Apart from being lectured by the officer, about the ignominy of being the oldest ASBO recipients in Stockport, I’m sure no further action will be taken.
Up until Ange’s wobbler, we were having a very pleasant interlude. Coffee and cake were delicious. Numerous types of coffees and teas were on offer.
The official opening was postponed until tomorrow. Workmen still on premises putting finishing touches to the shop. WiFi engineer had gone AWOL, so this post is from the WritersRoom.
Gareth&Claira were the epitome of Mine Host&Hostess. I felt at home amongst an avant gardeish crowd of about 20+. I felt a stirring in my loins, t’wards literary endeavour.
I’m sure, that when I return (by myself), to CoffeeFix, all shall be forgiven.
Take care
Vic
P.S. You’ll notice, that even when her immature antics are being recorded on camera, she just can’t resist smiling for the camera. tch! tch!
Find a good pub, bring your own french press, make friends with a good coffee roaster. Then during happy hour you can sell coffee to pay for your absinthe shots.
A cliff hanger! Will Vic-k get to use the computer? Will Angela maintain her noble and righteous rage while still smiling politely? Will the police say “Please stop” yet again? Will Gareth & Claira find ways of keeping their premises respectable? Will wifi be switched on in time for the grand opening? Will the Red Lion recover from the loss of their most (in)famous patron?
I almost regret asking now, I think I’m hooked - this is better than Neighbours* and almost as good as Batman.
*Although, to be fair to Neighbours, if I’d ever stayed awake through an entire episode I might have more to compare.
WOT?!
Where you two coming from!!? What planet do you live on.? Obviously, you’re a pair of conspirators, with your in tandem, bizarre adjectival usage. Schishh!! tch! tch! wot y’ like.
Me thinks cady wants to see blood. A noble beast, a stag like creature…me, prostrate, felled by a Palinesque Ange. Sorry to disappoint, but we never came to blows. As soon as she started squealing, I let her take the laptop.
In the first place, I was only conforming to stereotypical expectations with the laptop. I don’t need one. I don’t even need a pen’n’paper…I’m an observer . Secondly, truth to tell, the only thing I need a coffee shop for, is a sit down, and a cup off coffee.
If…I can work at all, it’s in a quiet room, with a big bay window view of Mother Nature.
The only other piccy, is of a row of jars of tea behind the counter. You can tell by the crap photography, who took it. Pictures of other folk were studiously avoided.
CoffeeFix is a great place for a cup of coffee, a piece of cake and a chat, but as far as I’m concerned, that’s it. But, I have noticed, on the occasions I’ve been in or passed by, that the clientèle they are attracting, are people I’ve never noticed in the village before, so it could be that before long, there will be a writer working regularly in the shop. Good luck to ‘em.
Well yeah, Stag Larsson. Seeing the two of you clutching the laptop thus, the lady with a murderous gleam in her eye, and you with your jaw set in determination, I was kinda hoping for some freakin’ blood.
And who knows what’s really inside them bottles of, um, tea. I mean. Could be blood.
Hmm. I think I might have watched one Buffy episode too many.
staring at Mark’s new signature Mr. X! Oh no! Where is our Mark? It’s the Le D syndrome! Psycho sound effect
Surely it’s not, oh, catching?
“Catching?” It is…how do you say in French…c’est très drôle…
Maîtresse Camille
), I lamented the lack of a proper Coffee shop in the village. Those lamentations, having probably travelled around the globe, are now about to bear fruit.
Vic-k’s, kinky, Mr nom…but not that kinky!!
