Before I could even stop myself, I became THAT Londoner.
We all know the ones: Who run to get the Tube, because a two-minute wait for the next one would be simply unbearable.
The ones who think someone walking in front of them with a suitcase causes them physical pain, when really it's more than likely induced from regular sighing.
It is an unhealthy mental state of mind, one of sheer agitation, an inability to stroll for fear of being labelled a tourist - as if the word somehow transforms us into those happy, relaxed group of people enjoying the city and, heaven forbid, we can't possibly be happy when we have 7.5 seconds to get on the Jubilee line.
Fortunately for my over-analytical mind, I'm aware that I'm becoming that Londoner and take swift action by accepting an invitation to sample a new menu at The Rising Sun in Pimlico, a short walk from Sloane Square station.
I think it might help. Sloane rangers don't dash (unless it's their morning run on the way back from hot yoga). They stroll through London's most affluent streets, perusing shop windows after an afternoon well spent planning the next ski jaunt over detox juices. And whilst I regard anything with the word detox on the label as abhorrent, perhaps a bit of Sloane Square strolling would take down the aggravation a notch or two.
And so we walk, in a leisurely manner, down the side streets off King's Road until we reach the silent lanes of Pimlico.
"Apparently, no one goes to Pimlico" says my companion, matter of factly as we enter The Rising Sun.
And that's precisely the beauty of it. Situated on the corner of a quiet street, The Rising Sun feels remote from the city's hustle. Inside the well lit, cosy pub, there are what appears to be - wait for it - locals . In London. Remember those? People who regularly frequent pubs and form wonderful, drunken relationships with other pub goers? Those.
We are greeted by the pub owner, who chats to us about the area's history and where else is good nearby. The waitresses seem genuinely happy to be there, laughing with the other visitors as she strolls past them to recommend dishes for us.
My companion and I opt for burgers - one halloumi and one beef. The sweet potato fries steal the limelight (who thought fries could ever be sensational) and with a delicious slab of halloumi in the burger, it was a satisfying enough main, complete with roast pepper, lettuce, pickle and tomato.
Apparently the beef burger is crumbly, which is slightly peculiar I'm told, but nevertheless, the waitress is left with two sparkling clean plates whilst we cast our eye over desserts.
Along come two Oreo brownies, with chocolate sauce and a generous helping of vanilla ice cream. There is the occasional burnt edge and I can't taste any Oreo, but overall it's a hot square of satisfaction.
I'm sure there is a generous helping of calories which accompany the gooey, chocolatey composition, but who cares when there's so much happiness in your mouth.
The true magic of The Rising Sun is the service. Staff tell us tales of how other pubs in the area are steeped in Westminster history and, just for a little while, we forget we're in a city where people dare not make eye contact on public transport.
We sit and enjoy burgers and brownies to the sounds of Amy Winehouse and the bustle of people greeting one another and ordering "the usual". It felt how a pub should feel.
We say our thank yous and made our way back to Sloane Square, back to London's reality. Five seconds before that Piccadilly line door closes...
getwestlondon gives The Rising Sun three stars out of five.
