Lucy Jayne Craigs / 33261661
Starbucks coffee shop on a frozen, February afternoon; condensation clings to thewindows, concealing the snow flakes impolitely falling behind them. The shoppers of Leeds have flocked like sheep in search of shelter and warmth. The herds huddletogether around the mass of tiny tables cramped into the adequate room.An assembly of students dominate the space; clearly marking their territory by spreadingout along a row of five tables. They screech and squeal; competing for the attention andthe role of alpha male.On the table in front of them sits an irritated man; annoyed at such close proximity to thewild animals. He takes out his frustrations on a large diary; furiously scribbling downmemos and slashing out dates. It’s a Saturday, presumably his day off; his dresseddown attire contrasts his tiring, prescribed mind.The table to his right stages two young men; branded head to toe, proudly sipping fromtheir ‘venti’ mugs. The mugs’ logo is facing outwards; image is everything. Two extrachairs accompany them, occupied by large bags gloating; Harvey Nicholls, Oliver Sweeney, Vivienne Westwood.Three girls sit in their eye line; the lions catch sight of their prey, all three sipping bottledwater elegantly. They exchange the odd confident glare.A group of six Asian students swarm around a circle corner table; transfixed with thetechnology at their fingertips; frantically tapping the Ipad and exchanging smart phoneslike a primary school ‘show and tell’ day.