A decade or so ago, in my very early fifties and just before I became a proper grown up, my friend Christopher and I would occasionally, at the weekend, open a rather good bottle of delicious Tennessee whiskey which (according to the blurb) had apparently been filtered through sugar-maple charcoal and, as the evening progressed, we would often end up playing a survival game we called ‘In the event of …’
I’ll give you an example, one time we played ‘In the event of a Tsunami’ (yes, I realise it’s not the most PC thing to play but it makes a lot more sense after a couple of glasses of whiskey). This event involved Christopher fashioning a raft from a passing shed, which would be floating by at the exact moment it was required, lashed together with shredded bed sheets. He would then paddle furiously (using two soup ladles from the kitchen as oars) approximately two miles to the nearest Marks and Spencer Food Hall (which was fully submerged at this point), secure the raft to the top of a lamp post and then dive deep into the murky waters, smashing his way into the store and retrieving anything and everything made of chocolate and then paddle back with his ill gotten gains. How could he see where he was going, I hear you ask? Well, we had sealed his mobile phone inside a freezer bag so that he could use it as a torch. We weren’t just amateurs messing about you know, we took it very seriously and tried to prepare for every eventuality.
What was my part in all this, whilst Christopher was risking life and limb? I was the brains of the operation of course!
On this particular occasion we considered this self imposed mission a complete success. Yay! So much so we poured another glass of whiskey to celebrate.
And then we played ‘In the event of a Zombie Apocalypse’ – this involved Christopher using shredded bed sheets once again, to swing between the rooftops to avoid the hordes of zombies on the ground, travelling for approximately two miles to the nearest Marks and Spencer Food Hall whereupon he would enter the building through a skylight on the roof and retrieve anything and everything made of chocolate. And some hand tied cinnamon sticks to stir our whiskey. My role was simply to defend our base in his absence.
This mission was also considered a huge success. Yay! Another whiskey to celebrate? Cheers, don’t mind if I do. Hic.
Other scenarios included ‘In the event of an Ice Age’, ‘In the event of a vampire infestation’ and ‘In the event of an influx of killer clowns’ where, yes you’ve guessed it, Christopher blah blah blah … you get the drift.
So what is the moral of this story? None, sorry. Just me daydreaming and taking a little trip down memory lane … and feeling just a tad smug in the knowledge that I’m pretty much prepared for all of the above should the worse case scenario kick in.
As long as Christopher is available of course 🙂
Over and out,