Sunday

I always hated sundays. Since I was a kid: When the morning wake up call meant that I had to sit through the mass at the church. A 154 years old priest rasping about the glory of friendship in Jesus while I was bullied by some shitbags who were slapping me in the neck from behind.

They had this great idea to have all the kids sitting all together at the most extreme end of this sacro loco. The farest possible from the pulpit. Almost with geometric precision.

So there we all were. And so they were, little Satans in disguise that instead of sitting on the celebration kept themselves busy torturing us, little sheeps.
Another problem, I was filed under 'gay geek' (although I wasn't but apparently I looked like) which made me one favourite target to play with, a sitting duck to their evil happy-making hobby.

So, I'm a really nice boy, I'm all smiles for everyone and I've never beaten neither a person nor an animal in my life. But I do hate people and I learned that very soon!!

And I think I do have a fucking reason for that!

Also, because I've been judged by the way I looked I decided to not have my hate filtered through. It means that I'm not racist at all; according to my feelings there's no primary determinant on the way I direct my anger. I hate people no matter what's their skin, religious belief, country, sex or favourite football team. I hate all of them, exactly the same way.

Back to sundays: the afternoon was even worse. Spend the rest of the day thinking that you're gonna be fucked by your teachers big time because you've not been smart enough to use friday afternoon, the whole saturday and that bit of morning to finish the huge mole of homeworks you've been given for the weekend.

That day is always been a puchbag for my laziness.

Like today, I was supposed to square my room away.......

Anyway since then as soon as I wake up I have my saturday night high spirit beaten out of me. Clearly now that I'm a 'gnown-up' I suffer the consequences of heavy drinking nights out but honestly what's so good in a day that you don't even know if 's the end or the beginning of the week?

I never understood that.

And it really flips me out!!!

Wether it's the begininng or not sunday means that tomorrow you're back to work.
I work in a coffee shop. That's the worst job human mind could think of. Really!!
You see, there's a really strange relationship between the citizens of London (where I live) and the culture of the cup of coffee. Something that is out of the radar of normality, something that I've never seen somewhere else in the world.
It's a funny and sometimes scary relationship and that can really divide people into categories and styles.

It's a two side game played by the customers and the companies. A game where you don't know who's the cat and who's the mouse anymore.
It's a job that makes your day an odissey and turn you into a sort of drug-dealer and that's how our usuals see me. When they don't have money with them (sorry, I thought I had some cash with me!!!) I give them the coffee "you can pay tomorrow". I know they need their dose right there, right now and I give it to them anyway.

I'm not supposed to do it. But a good dealer knows his users.

It's about this world that I want to talk to you of. A world that you think you know, because you spend a lot of your time in there but there's much more behind it.....