Breathless: Covid, Two Metres And Me
A diary of life in lockdown Britain, how retail survived a global pandemic. Volume Two
To mark the forthcoming release of volume two of Breathless, some extracts, beginning with day 201, October 10th 2020.
Day 201: October 10 I'm A Cafe, You're A Cafe
Who'd have thought that we'd be debating the definition of what constitutes a cafe for crying out loud? Because that's precisely what they're doing in Scotland right now as Jimmie Crankie announced her latest measures to close hospitality but allow cafes to remain open.
Fundamentally, it boils down to the fact that we're not to be trusted to start hugging and kissing one another once we've got a few down our collective necks. Personally, I'm loving having my personal space. After all, get off me, I don't know where you've been.
Rather splendid meal last night with a couple of good friends who also happen to be a couple. That bit's important for what's about to come. Anyway, I digress slightly. So, just to be fair, we asked the waitress to split the bill by a third and two thirds. Pretty straightforward you might think.
Now, I don't know about you, but I'm struggling to work out whether in maths classes she was facetiming her friends or the maths they teach these days is how to find the calculator app on your smartphone. Anyway, the look on her face was as if we'd asked her to recite Pi to 100 decimal places. Not only that, she didn't have a clue what on earth we were on about. The lights were on but no-one was home. The lift didn't go all the way to the top. Not firing on all cylinders.
Now, the point of recalling this rather shocking story is not to mock her in any way (well, I am) but more to point out that if the concept of a third and two thirds is completely alien to her, what other basic life knowledge is tantalisingly out of her reach? How to take the rubbish out? How to load the dishwasher? The mind boggles. And more importantly, what in the name of trigonometry is our education system doing? Because it clearly hasn't prepared her for what life will undoubtedly throw in her general direction. And that's the worrying thing.
Had the misfortune to have LBC on the radio driving home from the gym this evening and it was broadcasting a speech live from the White House. And what struck me was how quickly our hero appears to have recovered from Covid for an obese, elderly man. It's too soon for the fact checkers to run their collective slide rule over his speech but somehow, I feel they're going to make mincemeat - with an added soupcon of garnish on the side, of it. Still, he has done more for American black people than Abraham Lincoln. Whaaat??
Today's musical interlude continues the rather depressing trend which I appear to have stumbled upon, but this time, rather topical don't you think? Another from the archives which is sure to cheer you up. Enjoy Sad Café and Everyday Hurts – well, why not?
So, as we enter the third Covid centurial, there is one song which probably encapsulates these strange and surreal times. I'll leave you to ponder on that and will share the masterpiece with you tomorrow.
But in the meantime, our collective sacrifice continues, for it appears that more than ever, we are all in this together (sorry) as us poncy, smug southerners, it would appear, are about to feel the cold, uncompromising (for which read, ignorant and uninformed) judgement from Westminster, just like other parts of the country have had to endure for weeks now.
Just don't close Spoons, I really don't know how I'd cope without that bastion of good taste and aestheticism on our high streets. Remember, where there's a Spoons, there's hope (you can have that one on me Tim).