Yesterday, Sunday, my very satisfactory meal at Morrison’s café was spoiled by one small thing. Or, rather, more than a dozen small things.
You’ll see those tiny little flies hovering about in your kitchen, not your ordinary house fly and certainly not bluebottles. I’m talking about tiny flies about two millimetres long. I came across at least twenty of them as I was in Morrison’s café, trying to enjoy a Sunday meal. They hover around you and over your food in slow motion, always threatening to alight on it and ruin the meal for you.
It’s as if they’re taunting you, as if they’re saying, “Come on, catch me if you think your reflexes are up to it!” And when you reach out to grab one– zip! it’s gone… only to reappear seconds later and carry on taunting you!
Unfortunately for those little blighters, my reflexes ARE up to it! No less than fifteen met a bad end between my hands or against the wall. None of them, I’m glad to say, alighted on my food.
Flies and food don’t mix. Morrison’s should know that perfectly well.