Sitting Target.


I don’t think Costa in Stevenage spend a lot on this advertising campaign.



I saw this sign in the cubicle of their unisex toilet. I hope it wasn’t the venue. You could only fit seven people in there, tops, and the lack of power points would necessitate a completely acoustic performance; Mumford & Sons could play to an audience of three, but you’d never cover your overheads without charging a fortune. It would also be awkward.

The owner of the marker pen was clearly a big fan of quavers (the note value, not the crisp). He could have thrown in the odd crotchet or treble clef to spice things up. Semibreves wouldn’t have read out of context. They’d just look like eyes.

I like it that the poster comes in installments. Maybe each sheet was put up a week apart to create tension, like Charles Dickens used to do with his novels, or Stephen King did with The Green Mile. They didn’t stick them to toilet doors; they serialized them. I think you get my point.

At least it’s not as bad as this other lavatorial notice I spotted on the train the same day.


Sometimes loo roll isn’t enough.

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