My 2 cents.

A 15 minute conversation over breakkie with a stranger who, unfortunately, holds a huge personal disdain for me and my breed, felt somewhat nostalgic. And if I dare say, amusing. It was like playing golf underwater. With one hysterical clown who drinks on the job. Ok wait. How was this nostalgic? Oh yeah. Bipedal primates fighting for survival. Except in this case, the fight was uncontested cause we were too busy waiting for damn River Island to slash their price tags to actual one digit prices. And more importantly, the main star of the day was sane (and possesses the patience of Ghandi) enough to favour donuts over bitter ex gf and did every1 the favour by cutting the line short.

Again the question, why fight over a dick when you can have the remote control to yourself?