Brits Upend Social Distancing

A Brother Calls

Published: 24 March 2020

I was sitting here, the sun pouring through the window, a beautiful clear blue sky curving over Kaliningrad, the calming and civilised sound of a lawnmower buzzing leisurely in the background reminding me of those halcyon days, which seem so long ago now, when we used to go outside without a protective suit on, when suddenly the telephone rang. It was my brother.

(I don’t mean the telephone was my brother, I mean it was him ringing me.)

Joss: Hello, how are you? No persistent cough, high temperature, real or imaginary?

Me: Not that I know of.

Joss: Well, as old Uncle Son used to say “It’s a real bugaroota, isn’t it?

Me: What is? You ringing and disturbing me?

Joss: Nah, this corona thing.

Me: Not good for lemonade sales.

Joss: Did you see on Google all those W…..s going to Skegness and the Lake District after being told not to?

I affirmed.

Joss: What a bunch of Twats!

Me: Yes, it does make you think that we’ve probably got more Twats in the UK to the square foot than anywhere else in the world.

Joss: That’s about right. There’s no chance of social distancing in the UK ~ every square foot is occupied. But why Skegness?

Me: What?

Joss: Why Skeggy? I can understand why Twats go to the Lake District, but what is Skegness all about? Even people who live in Skegness don’t go to Skegness.

Me: I used to love going there as a child.

Joss: Understandable. It was English in Victorian times and dad’s Superminx only knew two destinations: Skeggy or Heacham.

Me: Perhaps that’s the answer.

Joss: Ay?

Me: If British Twats won’t self-isolate as advised they should all be made to drive Superminxes. They wouldn’t get very far.

Joss: And in trying they’d probably die of embarrassment ~ and then where would coronavirus be?

Me: I’m sure the embarrassment factor of a Superminx would be far more effective than a plastic protective suit.

Joss: A sort of Superminx Embarrassment Vaccine.

Me: Imagine a whole world flying around in Superminxes.

Joss: The American version would be twice the size of everyone else’s, and the Super Deluxe model would have extra-large fins.

Me: What about the Russian version?

Joss: That would be the new Comrade 7. Window wipers as optional extras and a Lada-look to the front headlights.

Me: Do you think Mr Putin would invest in one?

Joss: [pause whilst thinking] Hmmm, yes. He would have the top of the range Superminx Kremlin, complete with manly grid and a perfect ‘no-nonsense from anybody’ masculine appeal, which the West would be very jealous of.

Me: I get it. The Daily Mail would write things about its military look and The Guardian would say it was sexist.

Joss: Something like that.

Me: Anyway, I see that UKers have gone from being potential self-isolators to lockdownees.

Joss: Pity.

Me: Why?

Joss: I was going to suggest, as your wife is on Arsebook, that you could do your bit by setting up an Arsebook group.

Me: How’s that?

Joss: A ‘name and shame’ page. You could call it SSBT.

Me: Which means?

Joss: Spot the Selfish British Twat. Arsebook is full of wingers and whiners. They would be only too pleased to identify bonzos who are flouting social distancing advice and slap their mugs on social media.

Me: All is not lost. Watch out for media headlines about anti-lockdowners, counter-lockdowners championing civil liberties in defiance of draconian laws conspiratorially ushered in to advance the fascist agenda.

Joss: Who?

Me: You know, Farcet. It’s that small place near Peterborough.

Joss: I know the off-licence there.

Me: That’s the one. We called in there a few months ago and I said

Joss: Ahh, you said, ‘do you get the impression that everybody is gawping at us?

Me: And you said, ‘Yes. They don’t hear many people speaking English here’.

Joss: How’s your Russian coming along?

Me: She’s fine.

Joss: I mean your language?

Me: More foul than usual. Something to do with Google News.

Joss: And the cat?

Me: He swears back at me, in Russian: ‘meeowskee!!’