Probably time for a drink.

I walked on in search of my next stop. After 30 minutes of half-lolloping through the blazing heat I found Central Perk. No really. I’d seen it on the internet, the owner having spent much of 2001 sticking it to the Man, in the form of Time Warner.

The logo as clear a rip-off of the Friends coffee house as you could manage, but the enterprising chap managed to secure copyright in about eight countries before Time Warner even knew what was happening. Really serves America right for not paying attention when the rest of the world agrees to do stuff like respect everyone else’s trademarks.

The Central Perk similarities really extended as far as the logo. The place felt like a faded local haunt for equally weary old men who huff and beurgh and boff their way through animated conversations like proper Frenchmen. Gunther was a hawkish old man and Rachel Green a coquettish blonde. There were soft chairs littered about the place for that coffee house vibe, and grand chandeliers if you looked up high enough.

The coffee was severely good, gliding invitingly down your throat, smoothing the way for another cup. I suddenly felt like I should order a brandy and take up smoking, but then I remembered that I was wearing a bright yellow Spongebob Squarepants t-shirt and glistening from sun lotion. I did not belong here.