Twenty past six.
The baker finishes the morning's trays and the owner, phone in hand, opens the menu editor: cinnamon buns on, lemon drizzle off until Thursday, today's soup typed in as roast tomato.
The website and the map listing already show that the café opens at eight because the bank holiday override was set last week.
At ten to eight the first pre-orders arrive from the office down the road: two flat whites, one oat latte and three buns for the eight-twenty window.
The tablet by the machine lists them in collection order.
At eight-fifteen the barista taps the first order as ready and the customer's phone buzzes; she walks in, says her name and leaves without joining the queue.