Pie rage!

As you’ll have probably guessed, this blog consists of the first thing that occurs to me when I start writing. The first thing that occurs to me this morning is that a Pret muffin probably wasn’t the best thing to eat if I’m serious about dieting.

Some bloke in Smiths - the joys of Google image search

Working in Farringdon is a curse for a boy who likes his food, as I do. There are just so many good eateries around here. I’ve gained a stone in weight since my previous agency moved here (my new workplace is just around the corner from my last).

The most damaging factor has been having Smiths of Smithfield around the corner. Curse that place and its bloody pies! (Not literally dripping in blood, although that may well be the next step for meat-loving foodies.)

Smiths’ pies are excellent – lovely pastry and substantial filling with delightful gravy. They’re also most sought after. The pies are generally sold out by 12.30pm, so you have to get there early. Sadly, most of the time we don’t. This has led to pie-rage incidents, generally involving my former art director Kev. The worst instance was when there were two pies left and we ordered just in time and then the waitress forgot our order and we had to WATCH SOMEONE ELSE EAT OUR PIES! You can imagine the fury we both felt. If Kev had been armed, he’d have gone on a killing frenzy, summarily executing the waitress and riddling the upstarts eating OUR pies with bullets. Luckily, he wasn’t armed and just complained so that we got free drinks. Hurrah!