Being British

I think I lived through the perfect example of what it means to be British the other day. I was in a coffee shop (which is often the case), enjoying the coffee. Well, enjoying the free WiFi more but that doesn't paint me in a good light.

As I sat there I heard some women in the far corner scream. I looked over and worked out that they were freaking out because there was a mouse in the coffee shop. One woman ran over to where I was sat and got on the highest stool she could find.

The mouse ran out, things got back to normal and then a homesless drunk came in and started shouting at people. And this is the moment I realised that if there's a mouse people scream, if there's a nutter we all go quiet. Now that's being British.