Delice de France on Platform 13 at Clapham Junction.
What could be easier, coffee and a sandwich? £5.34 she said. Strange, I could have thought it was £4.34 so I queried this.
She sets off on some spiel about the price on the till. I explain about the price on the sandwich. She starts telling me this barely intelligible guff about it not being on display. I think that she was trying to explain that it was a batch not intended for that shop, but for one that doesn't charge a premium of a pound for being on Platform 13 of Clapham Junction. I tried to explain that I wasn't interested in the history of the bloody sandwich and please stop calling me darling; I just wanted my pound back.
In the meantime another woman was having an issue with the other member of staff, who had given her something with bacon in it which she can't eat because she is a vegetarian. I wasn't able to give this the full attention a proper blogger should, but it seemed that as they had sold out of veggie feuilletes (or whatever) she wanted her money back but this concept was beyond the comprehension of the shop staff.
Meanwhile a queue of middle-aged middle-class women is building up like a Greek chorus alternatively chanting 'Give her her money back' and 'Is anyone here serving?' and I an caught in an exchange which includes the serving woman giving me back my £5.34, me saying I didn't want the sodding sandwich, stop calling me darling, and I'm not interested in either the history or pre-destiny of the sandwich and finished with her announcing loudly and accusatorily that I hadn't paid for my coffee.
I can't say it was my finest hour; there again I don't consider communication with the irredeemably stupid and incompetent to be one of my core skills. I started off polite and I just wanted my pound back. The reasons why and the possible accounting implications are none of my business.
The upshot is that I will never buy anything again at any branch of Delice de France, despite 20 years or so custom.
