An open love letter to Pret A Manger following the tragic closure of Albert Street branch

I feel the need to clarify that I am 100% not a Tory

Dear Old Friend,

I say old because as of today, due to circumstances entirely unforeseen but nonetheless so damningly tragic, our supposedly indestructible relationship will cease to exist.

Though I recognise that this travesty occurred through no fault of your own, it would of been nice to, at the very least, receive a little warning. I can’t help but feel as though I’ve just encountered my first ever fuckboy – all those empty promises of early morning dates with your toasted cheese and tomato croissants, those late night study sessions accompanied by your warming tomato soup where I felt like you truly understood me, not to mention all those times you teased me with free gifts (namely the almond butter bites and occasional bag of popcorn) at the till.

And though I be but not your typical kind of girl, I thought we had something special. Maybe I was naive to believe that you would fall for my offensively patterned flared trousers, Chilly water bottle and the slightly rusted golden hoops dangling from my ears just like the girls you see in the movies (or Exeter University).

As a fresher, I knew it was love at first sight. You were my safe haven amidst the impossible, drab and crime-ridden Nottingham streets. Though there were hundreds of food chains to dine at, some alike and some entirely different, I knew you were the only one for me. As I stepped foot into your nicely-chilled-but-not-too-cold, well-lit, cosy interior, the sweet smells of your freshly brewed coffee permeated the air, a stark contrast to the usual potent stench of sticky vodka-laced cobbles and rollies. For me, it was heaven.

Perhaps it’s not you, it’s me. I know I had a tendency to shy away from some parts of you, namely your egg and spinach pots, and I might have gone next-door to M&S Broadmarsh once or twice but the fact still remains – I loved you and will continue to do so. Maybe I took advantage of you occasionally but your offer of complimentary WiFi, as an innocent second-year English student, was one I simply couldn’t refuse. And when you introduced the free water taps, it just made it even harder to stay away – what we had was undoubtedly special.

My days of strolling through Nottingham City Centre have, without question, been altered forever and as you walk away from my life, I hope you get what you’re looking for in yours. Perhaps we will meet again, maybe in London, or further afield? Currently, all I know is that your tuna and cucumber baguettes, along with your peach green tea and sea salt and cider vinegar crisps will always have a place in my heart. And though Nottingham may recover in speed, I, however, will need a little more time.

I loved you and will continue to love you long after your infectious presence has left Albert Street. Call me if you need me.

All my love,


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