Uninvited dinner guests
Dear Mr Chips,
What would you do? Imagine you were at a nice restaurant, with a lady you were very fond of, when suddenly zombies burst through the glass windows. You have a powerful handgun, but remember that you only have two bullets.
Did that really happen? I’d like to know what you did. Apparently you survived, unless zombies are a lot more articulate and computer literate than I realised.
Or is this like the pharisees throwing some weird question at Jesus to try and make him look silly? (I make no comparison between myself and the more well known JC.) Not that Jesus was an open carrier. Why have I only go two bullets? (Jesus would never run out of bullets.) Did I have to pawn the rest to pay for the restaurant meal? She better be a nice lady. So what are you getting at? Are you asking if I am the sort of person who always has two bullets in case something bad happens and I have to murder my dinner companion and top myself? (He’s a good date, he’s always suicide prepared!)
Joe Chip does not swing that way!! I’m not murdering some nice lady and killing myself. That’s not the way I was brought up and does not accord to the worldview and approach to life to which I subscribe. Murder-suicide may be the first choice of most people in a difficult situation, but I am sorry, its just not for me.
There are two certainties in life. The first is that there is always a lead zombie. Take them out, head shot between the eyes. Believe it or not, it does give the other zombies pause, despite the stories otherwise, and will buy you a few valuable seconds.
The other certainty in life is that there is always someone at a restaurant – waiter, diner, thief – who has annoyed the hell out of you and really and truly deserves to die. Joe Chip will not kill them, it is not his way. However, I will decide that they have annoyed me enough that they get a bullet in the leg. The smell of blood will distract the zombies, and will slow the annoying person down so that they get more attention. I hope they make it out alive, I really do. However, I am responsible for only my own actions, not those of zombies, and if they get eaten, that is not my fault. After all, they did deserve to get shot.
I then slip out the back door and take my lady friend home. She will probably decide that my actions were the most romantic thing she has ever experienced in her life, and grateful that she still has a life, I think I may get a good night kiss after all.
Another writer asked a similar question about dating and restaurant etiquette. In this case, it was what to do if you were out on a date and discovered that all of the air in the atmosphere was about to be converted into water. I have covered this elsewhere. Do not make my mistake, do not use your last piece of oxy-gum and hope that your date does not notice you did not share.
Dear Joe Chip, boo-hoo, blah blah, world awful, despair, global warming, what can I do.
Dear Sook, cut the crying, and buy lottery tickets to fund world revolution. OK?
(For Adrianna F, who likes zombies)