Dinner with Covid-19
Saturday 18th April, 2020 – 10am
I have decided the only thing to do is invite Covid-19 to dinner.
After weeks of slagging it off with little effect, the only thing to do is change tack. Somehow we have to make it listen. So, having been the bad cop for a while, I have decided to be the nice cop and invite it in for a nice chat over some nice pasta and a nice wine. If it doesn't choke on the niceness, it may just be seduced by the change of tone and become reasonable. I don't want it to come upstairs, but I do want it to mellow. Clearly up to now it has just dug its heels in and the vicious assualt I subjected it to may not have gone down so well with it. So, there is nothing for it but to swallow my pride and give it the soft lighting, seductive music, excellent cooking, top notch wine and sparkling conversation that it probably craves. After all, if you were Covid-19 you'd probably feel a bit miffed about all the negative publicity. I have decided we have to look at it differently and be emollient. It may do the trick.
You see, when you look at it from the Covid point of view, everyone seems to have it in for it. Whole continents are after its blood and want to strangle it vigorously. Massive sums of money are being spent in laboratories in every corner of the globe trying to nail it to a bench, pulp it in a juice extractor, surgically remove its gonads, and are shouting at it while gesticulating wildly. Now, looking at it coolly for a while, this is not the sort of behaviour that any well brought up virus would tolerate. Its self-respect would not allow this sort of thing to pass without comment. There would be letters to its MP at the very least.
So, as I don the apron, and get together the ingedients for a really smashing Saturday Night Seduction Special, please think of me as we move from the table to the sofa, as the lights dim with a deft twiddle of the switch and I refresh our glasses with some more of the Krug '85 I have been keeping for just such a special occasion, for it is at that moment that I may raise the question of going away on a Caribbean beach holiday and how much better it would feel after a few weeks of r and r.
I think there's a fair chance it may listen. It's certainly worth a try. if it proves reluctant I will gently chide it with its recalcitrant attitude and appeal to its better nature, reminding it, perhaps, of its mother's sadness at its child being vilified so intensely and comprehensively around the globe. The Krug will, I am sure, do its work and gradually, almost impeceptibly at first, the virus will being to melt.
Mark my words, before the night is out, it will be putty in my hands. Which I will obviously then have to wash.
I have decided the only thing to do is invite Covid-19 to dinner.
After weeks of slagging it off with little effect, the only thing to do is change tack. Somehow we have to make it listen. So, having been the bad cop for a while, I have decided to be the nice cop and invite it in for a nice chat over some nice pasta and a nice wine. If it doesn't choke on the niceness, it may just be seduced by the change of tone and become reasonable. I don't want it to come upstairs, but I do want it to mellow. Clearly up to now it has just dug its heels in and the vicious assualt I subjected it to may not have gone down so well with it. So, there is nothing for it but to swallow my pride and give it the soft lighting, seductive music, excellent cooking, top notch wine and sparkling conversation that it probably craves. After all, if you were Covid-19 you'd probably feel a bit miffed about all the negative publicity. I have decided we have to look at it differently and be emollient. It may do the trick.
You see, when you look at it from the Covid point of view, everyone seems to have it in for it. Whole continents are after its blood and want to strangle it vigorously. Massive sums of money are being spent in laboratories in every corner of the globe trying to nail it to a bench, pulp it in a juice extractor, surgically remove its gonads, and are shouting at it while gesticulating wildly. Now, looking at it coolly for a while, this is not the sort of behaviour that any well brought up virus would tolerate. Its self-respect would not allow this sort of thing to pass without comment. There would be letters to its MP at the very least.
So, as I don the apron, and get together the ingedients for a really smashing Saturday Night Seduction Special, please think of me as we move from the table to the sofa, as the lights dim with a deft twiddle of the switch and I refresh our glasses with some more of the Krug '85 I have been keeping for just such a special occasion, for it is at that moment that I may raise the question of going away on a Caribbean beach holiday and how much better it would feel after a few weeks of r and r.
I think there's a fair chance it may listen. It's certainly worth a try. if it proves reluctant I will gently chide it with its recalcitrant attitude and appeal to its better nature, reminding it, perhaps, of its mother's sadness at its child being vilified so intensely and comprehensively around the globe. The Krug will, I am sure, do its work and gradually, almost impeceptibly at first, the virus will being to melt.
Mark my words, before the night is out, it will be putty in my hands. Which I will obviously then have to wash.
Comments
Post a Comment