A tale of two milkbars

Of the two milkbars within walking distance of my home, the milkbar I usually frequent is better because: (a) it's closer, (b) like my home, it is on the flat part at the top of the hill, (c) although slightly run-down, it's clean and fresh and bright, and (d) the owners are friendly. However, for various not-very-interesting reasons I found myself heading to The Other Milkbar to buy my newspaper this morning.

Eugh. It's not so much that it's slightly further away or at the bottom of the hill that I dislike it. It's that the windows are tinted and the decor is brown and the lighting is dim and the whole place smells like old sausage rolls and the owners always give the impression that by wanting to buy their goods I'm taking them away from their busy chatting-and-rearranging-the-salad-rolls schedule. What a dingy, gloomy, little place. I felt quite depressed about it all.

But then, the newspaper I carried out of there had such glad tidings* on its front page that I could't feel down for long. It wasn't hard to keep a light heart and an equally light step all the way back up the hill on such a frabjous day.


* And in finding that link, I also discovered that Costello is going too! I thought his speech last night had a ring of "good-bye" about it.