Another day dawns. The restaurant critic awakes. He was out for dinner last night in some fashionable new faux-boho, no-booking, one-dish-only joint with absinthe cocktails, tattooed staff and idiot punters slobbering over newness for its own sake, and tonight he will almost certainly be dining somewhere exactly the same.
But first he must plan lunch. He goes online to see where the bloggers are talking about today, and is by no means surprised to find that it is a faux-boho, no-booking, one-dish-only joint with absinthe cocktails, tattooed staff and idiot punters slobbering over newness for its own sake.
Oh good, he thinks. For he has not been to one of those in hours. And has only been to seven so far this week.
And then