Alice White

London's mixed drinks can be eye-wateringly expensive. But you've got to see the bigger picture, suggests an existential Alice White. In one of my favourite moments from 'I'm Alan Partridge', he's reading out messages from listeners: 'Frederick emails to say he has four children. He is the proud father of a new baby boy, and his daughter, Susan, five, has just started school. And he thinks that after death, there is nothing.' It's funny because it's believable, and it's believable because it's true (that's how comedy works). I also believe we are all bobbing around aimlessly in life, regardless of what we're given or how we attempt to fill our time. The blankness of death is mirrored by the emptiness while we're alive: the Kardashians; social media; the lack of structure to all the endless, unnecessary suffering. Even if there ever was a point to life, it's probably irrelevant now that I have an app to blur out my snatch in the photos I post online to get attention. Is the point to help others? No: that's just aiding someone else's dawdle. Is it personal success? No: that's just so you can fill your own pointless life with better-quality stuff. And so, with all this in mind, I'm here to answer the most important question of all: are cocktails really worth the money? It's not unusual to pay £12 for a cocktail in London, because: well, just look at the price of everything else. London being expensive isn't the scoop of the century, but I resent it because I'm poor, and rich peo