Cheeky tramp

As usual, Yazzle Dazzle and I rocked up to Secret Starbucks at lunchtime today. What was not usual was the diminutive Peaches Geldof look-alike, with disheveled hair, trampy tracksuit bottoms, and a school blazer, who blatently pushed in in front of us in the queue. After a few seconds of standing there, and perhaps as a consequence of the laser vision boring into the back of her head courtesy of Yazzle and I, she turned round and in a posh-kid-pretending-to-be-street manner gushed "oh sorry, were you here?"

Yazzle glared at her and said "don't worry, you go first. Life's too short."

The wench turned round, picked up a juice drink, and waved it in the face of lovely barista lady.

"I'm just having this," she shouted in a 'DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH' stylee. 

"That'll be £1.85," said lovely barista lady.

The wench rifled through her purse, eventually pulling out a 10 pound note, a 20 pound note, and a handful of change.

"I only have £1.50 in change, and I don't want to break into these notes. Will you take that?"

Lovely barista lady stared at her, then glanced over at me. I burst out laughing. Yazzle tutted audibly. 

"No," said lovely barista lady. "It's £1.85."

The wench tutted, and handed over the tenner. 

After taking her change and walking off in a huff, lovely barista lady turned to Yazzle and I. 

"Bloody cheek," said Yazzle. "I hope she's planning to break that tenner on a hairbrush. God knows she needs it."

We all laughed. And then I pointed out that the little troll was actually sitting down just behind us. We laughed again, and she got up and left.

Good times.