At 5.31 this morning the news broke. It turned out that cigarettes weren’t to blame, nor deliciously sweet fizzy drinks or even the magical yet dangerous force that is bacon. Tea is no longer safe to drink. People were unable to wait even a second or two for an explanation. They escalated past blind panic in a matter of moments.
Then the riots because. Branches of Whittards were immediately ransacked with many of the looters seen to stuff tea leaves in their mouths upon exit. If it’s no longer drinkable it doesn’t mean that they can’t find another way to get the curative and relentlessly British (well, not originally but you know what I mean) stuff into their systems.
As a nation we will put up with much and more. How else do you explain the clinging strains of monarchy we’re left with in this democratic day and age? You can poke into our private correspondence (even if you know in your heart of hearts that you probably definitely shouldn’t. Even in the name of keeping us safe in our little beds at night).
You can even go after our national institutions related to health and broadcasting and threaten to strip them to bits. The most protest you’ll ever face in such a situation is a sternly worded letter. Possibly written in red ink if the sender wants you to know they’re really serious. But that was all before they tried to stop us from having tea.
It’s an underrated beverage, powerfully restorative and comforting and a far better way of trying to improve your day than any level of kind words or human contact would ever be able to illicit. The riots and civil disobedience will continue apace until the researchers science their way out of the problem and tell us how wonderful it really definitely is for us.