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McCafe morning. (Please don"t tell anybody I wrote this.)

February 21, 2019 - 11:04 -- Admin

I had to kill an hour in the city this morning. (Matter of fact, Dr Who-like, I"m there right now, but you"re not and it"s much later. Timey Wimey Magic!)I had my new iPad Pro with me, thinking I"d test it out for mobile productivity. I love this fucking thing, and will write about it some more, but the tech wasn"t the issue this morning. It was the space.Having an hour to fill while I was waiting for my daughter to get out of the orthodontist, I started casting around for somewhere to prop up and write a few pars.Something I quickly discovered; the better the cafe, the less likely it is to provide Wi-Fi. Hence I ended up hanging with the red headed horror clown. AKA McCafe.First impression. Going into the coffee business was a good deal for Ronald McDonald. My flat white and muffin cost more than they would have at a "real" cafe. The quality was fine. Machine-tooled even. That"s one thing about Maccas. You know what you"re getting. Every. Goddamned. Time.The Wi-Fi was free and fast, although having been lured there by the complimentary webz, I ended up using the city"s free network instead. No reason to the let horror clown in on my pornhub preferences. The city council, however, I"m fine with them knowing.The Maccas I chose was in the middle of the Queen Street Mall, in the old Jo-Jo"s building. It was spacious, and having been recently fitted out it hadn"t yet taken on that depressing patina of an underground city on a post apocalyptic world. The air con was chilly, the table tops clean, and there was more than enough seating for me to hide myself away from the horde.Crucially, after purchasing my coffee and muffin nobody hassled me to buy anything else. And to be honest, they wouldn"t have bothered me even if I"d just wandered in, hooked up to the net and started work.I dunno that I"d want to try get any real work done here during the burger rush hour, but as a place to prop up and bang out a few quick words, it beat the shit out of cooler, better, realer cafes.But if you tell anyone I wrote this, I'll straight up deny it and curse you for a damned liar.