Chilling out

I had comedy this evening, and instead of going home beforehand, I made the cardinal error of staying in Central. Well, that wouldn't be so bad, except I chose to take a load off my feet in the Pacific Coffee on Lyndhurst Terrace, and now I can't feel my feet.

Don't worry: they're not shooting customers with blowdarts, paralysing them in readiness for some coffee-sponsored cannibalism. No, they've just jacked the air conditioning up to the maximum, because it's May now, so it must be incredibly hot outside, so it has to be stupendously cold inside.

It's absolutely baltic. I should have known this was coming when I had to put my gloves on this afternoon because it was too cold to type. Certainly it was chilly in the office, but they seem to be making a good attempt to breach absolute zero in Pacific Coffee.

Perhaps it's a sales technique, like salty peanuts to make you thirsty or loud music so you don't substitute conversation for drinking. Maybe some smart person somewhere has figured out we'll pay for more hot coffee the colder we get. The trouble is, the human body only operates well in a narrow range of temperatures, and if you're shivering so hard that you spill your latte, I doubt you're going to be a return customer.

Unless they've got the coffee shop franchise next to the hypothermia wing of St Mary's.

I would suggest that the person responsible for this thermal nitwittery is laughing at me right now, but I reckon they worked in Hong Kong and probably froze to death last summer, traditionally the coldest season in Hong Kong (indoors). So I shouldn't feel too bitter. And when I inevitably succumb to the cold, at least hell will feel nice and warm.