Pure pleasure for only 30 centimes

It's a far cry from the 'Find it yourself, scan it yourself, and don't think you're going to get a bye bye and thank you for spending all your money in our shop, except maybe from a robot' philosophy. Carrefour can forget me, in future I'll be sipping free coffee in the members' softly lit underground café, 'degusting' a free chocolate, with George Clooney being zoomed in at me from an overhead screen. So, a dinky little Nespresso capsule in gold, or metallic pink is an awful lot more of a treat, expense wise than your average no name brand café corsé. But you'd expect that. Leggedy hostesses in gold silk blouses await you, open doors, initiate you into the marvels of the Nespresso concept. You're in a film setting, a little marble, a lot of white and black and soft lighting. Indeed if it wasn't for George Clooney, you might suddenly feel you were the star. It's a hommage to snobbism and a paradise for a tired soul in need of a pick-up. The 'star shop' on the Champs Elysées even has coffee candles that light up as you get close and waft out their delicious scents at perfect nose height. There are coffee machines presented as if they were rare treasures, the same as mine, but studded with pink sparkles, on pedestals by the door as you waltz in past the door openers. Who, in a life of washing piles, homework supervision, and bills would not fall for it? The only problem is getting through enough coffee to be able to go back to the Nespresso Boutique often enough and that means staying at home and getting through the washing pile. Thank God though, I'm not stuck here alone. Someone from the Nespresso Club even called me today and asked me how I was.