Twenty something year old doing twenty something year old things

 Once upon a time, on a caffeine fuelled wander of the Georgian side streets of frozen south Dublin, I came across a grocer. It was one of those hybrid grocers which also seems to cater for the needs of aesthetically driven hipsters. I mean no offence by this as I am also a prime target.  Sniffing around the goods with my friend, we were drawn to a table at the back displaying such wares as a knitted 'beer glove' and, most criminally of all, a walkman shaped 'Holibops sound effects box'. This evil box of inane corporate, commercial tosh was advertising itself as "the perfect gift for a terrible 2020". I am trying to work out which aspect of this creation annoyed me more, the term 'holibops' which, to borrow from the children I mind, is like "so cringe" or the fact that this pandemic, as if it hadn't already spread enough harm, is now spurring on an entirely new type of pandemic: cov-ets--covid themed gadgets. Which, I expound, should not ...

 And on the third day she wrote again... Once again I have food and coffee to report of. A date was arranged and we met outside Jolin's Vietnamese coffee house on Clanbrassil street near Portobello. How is it that I have been separated from my dearest Vietnam, *sigh-gon,  for a year and a half yet have only just visited this glory, complete with a bona fide Vietnamese owner, originally from Saigon? I guess, as they say, it takes a lockdown to 'get in touch' with your locality. I ordered the 'classic' Vietnamese coffee. It was not the classic however as I decided that I could not brave the iced version-- my fingers would probably provide that touch anyway. Cycling over to this joint (definite 'food blogger' credentials for using that word) I had been rehearsing how to order it in Vietnamese..."Cho em mot chai bia?" No, not beer--coffee.."cho em mot  cà phê  " brilliant. I'm a local.  In the end, seeing the menu entirely in English and ...