Having just had a haircut to give myself the delusion of a fresh start, I head to the Department of Coffee and Social Affairs. It’s a name that reminds me of The Thick of It, and as I walk up Leather Lane I wonder if Malcolm Tucker will turn up and tell me that I’m about as much use as a marzipan dildo. It’s lunch time and there are a lot of men in shirts who look like they do grown-up jobs. I order a black Americano and sit down by a brick wall opposite some landscape paintings. Today the department is acting as my office, where I shall finish the third part of a comic about job applicant zombies.
David Guetta pounds through the speakers whilst a load of business men have a meeting. Techno beats and management talk intertwine as I take the first sip of coffee – full bodied and giving me a much needed smack around the face. I’m trying to think of the best way to draw a zombie being hit over the head with a rolled up rejection letter, unaware that I’m staring gormlessly out the window. I’m jolted back to reality by bewildered looks from passers-by and the caffeine surging through my veins.
I could do with one of the cakes or pastries I spied on the way in, but I can’t really leave my desk. Besides, I’m being unusually productive and I don’t know how long it will last so I better seize the moment. The coffee and surroundings have done me good, and I quite fancy that I shall be returning here soon, and on that occasion, I am intent on getting a cake to enhance my office experience. But for now, my working day is done, and I pack up and put on my headphones, walking briskly to Holborn station to the soundtrack of Norwegian metal.