‘Have a great one!’ said Pete, a heavy-jawed blond beast in an apron, sliding the coffee across the counter.

Old enough to remember the arrival of 'Have a nice day,’ Patrick could only look with alarm on the hyperinflation of 'Have a great one.’ Where would this Weimar of bullying cheerfulness end? 'You have a profound and meaningful day now,’ he simpered under his breath as he tottered across the room with his giant mug. 'Have a blissful one,’ he snapped as he sat at a table. 'You all make sure you have an all-body orgasm,’ he whispered in a Southern accent, 'and make it last.’ Because you deserve it. Because you owe it to yourself. Because you’re a unique and special person. In the end, there was only so much you could expect from a cup of coffee and an uneatable muffin. If only Pete had confined himself to realistic achievements. 'Have a cold shower,’ or 'Try not to crash your car.’

Edward St. Aubyn, Mother’s Milk

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