Have you ever wondered what people’s houses look like inside?
Does it look like organised chaos, with everything seemingly haphazardly strewn around but the inhabitant seemingly able to find anything in seconds (I’ve seen many work colleagues with varying degrees of this).
Or, perhaps, does it look particularly organised, with sock, cutlery and shoes all carefully put away in their alcove (so I hope to have my home sorted, if people would just stop touching my things)?
Progressing on from that, how do you work? With pandemonium, or straitlaced order? If you need a prod to answer that, a visit to Exmouth Coffee Company may be in order. When you enter, your reaction may be fairly informative. Just look at the below.
Did you blanch? Or instead, did you think that maybe this was where the next google was coming from? Or instead did you think that that was clever idea for decoration. Such clutter might help to jog your mind if you were stuck in a rut. Or perhaps, through a system of osmosis, inspiration would strike. Yet the picture of archetypal brain storming needs one more thing to be complete.
A latte. Looked rather nice. Tasted rather ordinary. Sadly, it wasn’t anything worth writing in depth about. Nothing to justify the volume of decorations. Then again, perhaps these notes might have consisted of less than complimentary feedback forms. Yet the only way to find out what they actually were was to make a return visit and I don’t think that would be enough to convince me to return.
I consider my time highly valuable. If I returned here, I would be missing out on a chance to provide unsolicited commentary elsewhere. So sadly, it will have to do with one visit. Although I couldn’t put my finger on any particular misdemeanour (except for that wall, that wall…), I wasn’t in any particular hurry to plan a return. Or perhaps it might be best if I did not reappear as I might be tempted to do damage to that wall.
A quiet eating 6/10.
A coffee was GBP3 excluding service.
83 Whitechapel High St,
London E1 7QX