A couple of days ago I sat in a café, working. I do this from time to time. Now, sharing tables is a perfectly ordinary part of Edinburgh café culture. I was a little surprised by this when I first came here (as most Norwegians would rather lose a leg than share a table with a perfect stranger), but I have come to rather like it.

Part of the convention, however, is that the person asks if it is all right to sit down. I was therefore a little surprised when this old woman, without so much as looking at me, placed her bag on the chair opposite me and headed off to order. I assumed that maybe she was going to get take-away coffee and didn't want to bring her heavy bag to the queue. Still odd behaviour.

She returned shortly afterwards and sat down. I had decided I didn't like her by now, and it got a little worse when she tried to engage me in conversation about how sweaty she was. Ick.

I ignored her.

She spent the next ten minutes or so drinking Irn Bru and eating a scone (a combination which had me quite distracted for a while) and coughing without covering her mouth. I spent most of the time trying to surreptitiously cover my cup of coffee with the paper I was reading. She then left.

Now I have a horrible cold which I have done nothing to deserve and which has struck at the most inopportune time imaginable. I am severely miffed. And I hold the hideous woman entirely responsible.

From now on you need a doctor's note to the effect that you are bug free before you can join my table.