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Nespresso - The Coffee For The Bell End Generation
on 22 January 2015
I'm giving these five stars based solely on the fact that ordering them online means I never, ever have to go into a Nespresso shop again. Or Nespresso "boutique", as the over-dressed, dead-eyed staff insist on referring to it as - probably as part of some dreadful company policy, but still. Although if you've never been into a Nespreso, ahem, boutique, you should at least once, just for the experience. You know how almost everyone who works in the Apple store is a colossal wanker? Well, the people who work in the Nespresso shop are the people who Apple deemed too wanky to employ. There's, like, this tasting bar at the back of the store, where skinny, perma tanned, lifelong housewives in jeans that cost more than my car, sip the tarry brew from pitifully tiny cups like it's the liquid secret of eternal youth (and they need it. All of them). "Hm, there's a hint of [something pretentious] in this,' they pronounce wretchedly, as the besuited staff member nods and simpers and congratulates them on their ability to, I don't know, stand and speak at the same time, or something. And you should see their faces when I have a go and give it, "Yes, I detect definite notes of Mellow Birds fused with the arse-end of a diesel engine in this."
It's apt they get George Clooney to prostitute himself to flog it, because drinking Nespresso is akin to watching one of his films: you think it's going to be a decent experience but pretty soon you're left with a bad taste in your mouth and you move onto something better.