The original ‘People’s Coffee’ lies on Constable Street. ‘People’s’, or ‘Peeps’, as it is affectionately known, is the real deal among the over-hyped climate of charity-based companies. There are certain unspoken rules by which it makes ot easy to pick a newbie. First, the wait is part of the process: you are buying a “boutique coffee”. If you complain loudly in the queue, nothing will hasten, and everyone will assume you are American. Secondly, you share a table: the sharing also runs with the ethos of free trade. A territorial approach to the concept of space is incredibly bourgeois. It makes for delightful conversation, especially as you are ?nally likely to be going there as coffee for one.
The sitting room from within Peeps is minimal. That is because almost its entire clientèle smokes like a train outside on the communal tables. There are many oxymorons of fair trade. This morning I was sipping on my fair trade default coffee (I am incapable of being in charge of things like making my own coffee in the mornings), and I took a drag of my tailor-made cigarette. I have been “in the process” of coming to terms with the “prospect” of quitting. I really want to, but because of a case of post-degree blues, I queit fancied the artistic statement of seeming to have no respect for your own well being. Living in the moment with no thought of such sentimentalities as seeing my children grow old and have their own babies.
Is there such a things as fair trade tobacco? Either no, because there is no trace on the internet of any “fair trade tobacco”. Or the niche does not exist because farmers get paid their fair price a very lucrative, widely traded crop.
Yeah right.
I toyed with the idea of refusing to smoke while enjoying my cup of coffee. The idea of giving up the coffee was not entertained for a second, so, yes, it was the smokes that had to go, no questions about it. I carefully stubbed out my cigarette and made sure I disposed it in the given council cigarette disposal unit. Ahhh, smug serenity.
So, motivation for giving up smoking now stands at: (a) empathy for a new world order; (b) in an effort not to be a hypocrite; (c) to rectify anomalies in my life.
Until, or course, fair trade tobacco enters the market and then I shall take it up again, offspring be damned.
PS.: My mother has just pointed out that if I changed to rollies, then little children in the third world wouldn’t need to roll them for me (or that was my interpretation).
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