mostly david ephgrave

I’ve noticed lately, with some sadness, that my local Caffè Nero is not what it was. It’s nothing to do with the coffee, the premises, or the way that it’s run. What’s changed is the staff. Literally. Most of the people who worked there when I used to sit in to write have moved on to pastures new. The friendly faces who would ask me how I was and what I was up to have nearly all gone. They’ve been replaced by equally amiable faces (on different bodies: they’re not the same people), but however pleasant they may be, the magic has gone. There’s no connection. What was once a refuge for a frustrated out-of-work actor and comic is now a place to pop in and out of quickly. It’s no longer my Caffè Nero; it’s just another Caffè Nero. I’ve lost my Cheers, my Moe’s, my Queen Vic. I’m like Frasier boycotting Café Nervosa, due to Elvis Costello – except my Costello is the Costello of the past . What I’m saying is: I miss it. In many ways, it’s a positive. The staff I used to cha...

I’m spending far too much time in coffee shops at the moment. It’s become an almost daily occurrence: either to kill time before a casting, or to finish off my daily blog. It’s helped me to be more productive – I’ve more inclined to work when out of the house – but I do get a little fed up with the enforced solitude. My caffeine intake has also gone through the roof; I’m currently shakier than an overworked Judy Finnegan. (This must be a by-product of being married to Richard Madeley. For her; not for me.) The hardest part is the constant flitting from one extreme to another; starting the day with a couple of hours in your own company, before psyching yourself up to walk into a casting. I always function best when I’ve had direct contact with others first thing; the longer it takes to have a proper conversation, the less likely I’ll be at ease when it comes to it. Thankfully, I’m not the only member of my social group who’s ...

Sometimes the briefest of conversations can cheer you up. I have got into the habit of visiting my favourite coffee shop almost daily. It offers a change of scenery if I’ve got nothing else on – and I find it much easier to get on with any work that needs doing, or my writing, when I’m out of the house. It’s also a good way of pretending I’m not waiting for my agent to ring. I visit the coffee shop regularly enough to have a “usual”.  All I need is a Ted Danson-a-like behind the counter for the transition to be complete. I’m usually in my favourite haunt by mid-morning. Today I arrived a little later – and, for no particular reason, was soon getting irritated by the woman in front of me in the queue.   She had one of those old-fashioned shopping-bag-on-wheels things in tow (the elderly's trolley-of-choice) – and despite being tiny, she still somehow managing to fill up the en...