It's all so Seattle.

Yesterday, after wandering amongst the shelves of the bookstore, I decided I'd go grab a coffee in Costa Coffee on Hanover Street. Mainly because I hate Starbucks with a passion, but also because there's a really hot girly works there. Yeah, I know, I'm a shallow cunt.

After almost managing to get up the stairs without injuring myself, god knows why but the stairway must have been designed purely for people who had their feet bound at birth, I wandered over to the counter and ordered my coffee.

Unfortunately, the hot girly must have been on a day off, as the only person on duty was an acne riddled teenager who looked like his mother wouldn't trust him with the kettle in the house and working at Costa was his way of rebelling.

I asked for a large latte, much to my chagrin as I'd much rather ask for a milky coffee and be done with it, then made my way towards the sugar and threw six sachets of the sweet stuff into my coffee.

Having thrown enough sugar in my coffee to make a five year old climb the walls like spiderman, I wandered across to the seats and plonked myself down on a comfortable looking chair that had a view of the castle.

Small snow flurries began to whip and whirl around outside, making me relish the fact that I had chosen to have my coffee in the warmth of the indoors rather than have it while making my way home, and I pulled out my newly bought copy of A Confederation of Dunces and began to read.

As I took the first sip of my coffee I realised that I had unknowingly sat at a table that was already taken. Across from me there sat a woman who was immersed in a book. "Sorry, I didn't realize that this table was already occupied." I said. The woman looked up from the book she was reading and I looked into the deepest green eyes I've ever seen.

"It's fine, I was just leaving." She said, her Irish accent plain to hear.
"Was it something I said?" I asked, attempting to make a joke.
"Yes, the word occupied always strikes fear into my heart." She said, with a slightly sarcastic tone.
"You better not read anything about the West Bank then. That's bound to have the word occupied in it at least a few thousand times." I said.
She laughed at my joke and I introduced myself. "I'm Ross by the way."
"That's a strange surname." She joked.
"It's hereditary." I replied, continuing the humor. "I think it's a family heirloom. Some people get paintings, some people get Ming vases, I get a silly surname."

She smiled, picked up her bag and began making preparations to leave. "Well, Mr By The Way, it was nice talking to you." She said.
"I didn't catch your name... Miss..." I enquired.

"It's Mrs Unfortunately Married." She said, as she turned and walked away. Taking a little bit of my heart with her.