My imaginary mornings

I walk in here every morning Monday to Friday without fail, I look just lovely. My hair is in a messy bun, my tiny French style children's coat hangs just right and everyone is happy to see me and the kisses on my cheeks are endless. I need not even order my coffee and marmalade toast for all the lovely waiter-boys fight to be the one to make it first, for the chance to chat a little more.