Mocha, newbie post, Allan OTA
Last night, on the way back from his workshop, he had heard familiar acccents, had accosted them and had been welcomed to a shebeen over on Ferry Road. It had been a grand and gaudy night with much drink taken, craic spoken and music played.
Now he had a head like a foundry and a belly desperately in need of food. Mocha coffee and cookies would have to do.
He joined the queue and stood quietly suffering as the line shortened.