œuf à la coque

It's been about a month now since I left the flat in Queen's Park so I decided to meet up with my ex-flatmate (she pencilled me in for two weeks time because she's very busy and important unlike me ('You want to meet up tonight? On the other side of London? I'll be there in ten minutes. In fact, I'm already halfway there on the offchance').

Anyway, that is now tomorrow and she emailed me today with the website of a bar that's 'supposed to be pretty cool'.

Well, it looks er, minimalist. It's got NY roots I think, and there's not a website as such, as a URL with a single page stating 'No bookings' and 'No telephone'. I mean, come on. Luckily she sent me a review which confirmed my suspicions even further - they serve soft-boiled eggs and soldiers as nibbles - which sounds wholesome enough, but it's probably very now and a mechanism for Soho types to discuss, you know, wasted childhood and chicken foetuses. Probably.

Naturally I emailed back straight away saying 'OH MY GOD IT SOUNDS SO PRETENTIOUS! Let's go!!' - and as my work is closer, come 5.45 tomorrow, I will be sitting there, fighting for dear life to save two seats, looking horrifically out of place and resisting the urge to ask if they have cheerios as well. I'll keep you posted.