The Only One I Know

My Dear Fellows & Dear Princess Normal,

Today's earworm comes to you from the 1990's. You are welcome.

I remember seeing a news item back in the 80's about a Muslim couple who moved to a little village in rural Ireland to act as missionaries.

It was quite sweet and funny. The locals seemed to like having them around because they were colourful and exotic and different, but as for conversion...

"Ah they're grand people, really friendly," said some auld feller in the pub. "But as for Islam... well it'd be a bit of thing there, giving up the drink."

(My memory may have Father Tedded it up a bit).

That came to mind today, as I visited the only branch of Starbucks that I'm aware of, in this coffee-obsessed city. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

You see, Cazza and me are under the weather. We both thought we were rotten with hayfever all week, but now it has dawned on the pair of us that we actually have a cold.

Yes, yes, I know. You have to be a special kind of stupid not to realise you are sick. But you need to bear in mind that we - the both of us - ARE special when it comes to our noses. 

I've ALWAYS suffered really badly with hayfever. Annoyingly, I was the only one in my family who did. I grew up with a constant refrain of "Stop that sniffing!" or "Oh just blow your nose!" from people whose faces did not explode in the summer and who therefore did not understand.

Soozle, my Ex Er Indoors was the same. She never got it. "Do you HAVE to do that?" she would ask in exasperation. She made me feel like a cross between a foam machine and a bucket of wallpaper paste.

So when I met Cazza, I was like Boris Karloff in "Bride of Frankenstein". 

ME: Wo-man! Friend! Like me!

If anything, Cazza is even worse than I am. We have bonded over swollen turbinates*. We discuss our favourite tissues and compare notes on which drugs help (none of them WORK exactly, they just help).

So this week we've both been making noises like this - BLAH-CHOOOO!!!! AWWWWWW-BLEEEEEAH!!!! and WAH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAaaAAAaaaa...

Oh bugger. It's gone back up. I hate it when it does that.

- CHA-BLAAAA-HAAAAA!!

Ah, that's better.

But we just thought it was the NEW ZEALAND SPRING. DO YOU SEE?!? DO YOU??

I hate it when you don't see.

However, today we both realised this is more than hayfever. I feel drained and hot and weak. Cazza is even worse, she has gone very pale.

I felt bad for her, and headed into town. We were completely out of tissues for one thing and herself was blowing her nose with bog roll**. Also, I wanted to cheer her up by buying some treats.

So I went to the only Starbucks in the CBD. It may be the only one in Wellington. Wellingtonians eschew the stuff. "It tastes like cardboard," they tell me. And - look at my picture - the place was EMPTY. Deserted. Bereft of custom.

I remember the last Scottish Starbucks I was in. It took ten minutes just to get a pesto chicken wrap and a bottle of water.

And that's the other thing I noted. The food. No wraps. Instead they had pies and sausage rolls. It is like they have been infiltrated by fifth-columnists from Greggs.

So I got Cazza a Grande Latte accompanied by a chocolate muffin, and was happy to see her perk up when she saw her treats. Then I took a swig of my own coffee.

YUCK! EFFING CARDBOARD!

Godammit. This city has ruined Starbucks for me.

S.

* These are the little sniffy organs inside your nose. And not what you were thinking. Rude.

** As any hayfever sufferer will tell you, blowing your nose with toilet paper feels like sanding your hooter with an emery board after an hour or two.