I was in John Lewis a while back, I had been dragged around Oxford street with a hangover all morning and the heating had turned the atmosphere in there Saharan. Upon the brink of death I dragged myself up to the canteen counter, all cracked lips and croaky voice, and rasped, ?May I please have a bottle of water?? ?Certainly sir.? Said the young lady as she shooed away a circling vulture, ?That will be ?2.50 please.?