Borderline...

To York, that place what where we lived for a while. M was at the hospital. The last time we were there I got a call from a newspaper asking where I was, and when I told them I was standing in the north's leading neurological department, they sounded as if they didn't believe me. Hmmf. Having set off early with barely time to share a cuppa, our first port of call in the walled city was the Starbucks in Borders. There was a funny old sandal-wearing chap in there doodling about on his laptop and, yes, I was staring at him over my grande cappuccino (and subsequently waving my camera phone at him - there he is on the right of the picture to the left). At one point he just started scratching his head, pacing up and down and, seconds later, and much to the bewilderment of a couple sat at an adjacent table, he totally abandoned his laptop (you couldn't do that in a coffee shop in Hull and expect to see it again) and headed downstairs, resurfacing a short while afterwards clutching lots of computer books from the Borders shelves. He pored over the books, gleaning what was obviously vital information, and then typed like fury. I don't think he planned to buy the books. We picked up three nice little books from the cut-price Vintage Take Your Imagination East series and, from the quite fantastic The Japanese Shop, a packet of way-overpriced chocolate-covered Pocky sticks ("Most of the people who eat this stuff are fat wannabe-Japanese people , and the pocky does not satisfy their big American appetites, so they buy like, 5 packs of it, for 10 dollars, which is the ultimate frivolous waste of money." - Kimipoo).