Yup, whichever cafe chain is in the news that week for not paying tax gets me for one hot chocolate and eight hours of my working day.

The army of laptop wielding freelancers are the coffee shops’ tax. I will drain their sockets of complimentary electricity. And I will take extra napkins. They owe us – freelancers are claiming back all the money international chains haven’t contributed toward hospitals or schools one wooden stirrer at a time.

It’s funny the things you forget about working in an office. Like the ritual of everyone in the organisation signing a birthday/leaving/new baby/retirement card for each relevant person.

I was reminded of the en masse signing when a friend had to write in a card for a colleague from another floor she’d passed once in a corridor.

She didn’t even remember them exchanging a smile. If you think about it, giving a birthday card to a person you once silently walked past is pretty freaky. It’s like giving a birthday card to a stranger. Like stalking with Hallmark.

If I gave a random greeting card to a barista I’m sure I’d be put on a watch and/or spit in this person’s drink list.

But you know what’s more natural? Giving money to a stranger. Each tip I leave on the cafe counter I’m handing money to a stranger. Each time I put coins in a charity tin I’m giving money to a stranger. Each time I buy the Big Issue I’m giving money to a stranger.

And doing that is cool. Instead of writing awkward messages in greeting cards to unknown colleagues let’s just give them a fiver. A far more useful bit of paper.

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