By Alexander Taylor
Dinner is Served
“Who would you have dinner with, dead or alive?”
Alive, obviously. Although the dead can’t complain you’re a culinary featherweight.
“No, who would you have dinner with? Like, the actual person.”
“… you’re not taking this seriously.” It was at this point mum got up and walked from the table. She’d had enough.
Jesus was a serious answer, though. He’s had his last supper. What could possibly go wrong? Dig him up for instant noodle al dante at the casa del Taylor. Last Supper 2.0.
(I say al dante, partly because I tend to forget the kettle is boiling.)
It’s a question often asked at job interviews. The classic answer is someone influential. Although, I feel if you actually had dinner with Malala, you’d be doing the heavy lifting in the banter department. Not to say she’s boring. The book was a bestseller. It’s just easier to talk to people when your problems are on the same scale.
Alex: “Ah, bloody hell. I forgot the kettle was boiling again.”
Malala: “… I spoke out against a conspiracy of silence for the empowerment of women. I revolutionised feminism. I am one of the most powerful voices of our time.”
Alex: “Yeah, cool. But they should invent a kettle whistle or something.”
Malala: “… That already exists.”
Alex: “What a time to be alive!”
Look, I get it. You want someone amazing. The sheer wonder. The conversation that could flow.
Have you considered Abraham Lincoln would actually be reasonably uninterested in having dinner with you?
Look, you’re probably interesting. You’re probably really interesting. You’re just not… how can I put this… Mahatma Gandhi interesting. Dinner might be rather one-sided.
So answer the question properly. I’d have dinner with my Mum, personally. She’d appreciate the company. I’d appreciate some help graduating from instant noodle class of ’18.
Unless you have to land a job, of course, in which case…
Come on over, Lennon. Pop on over, da Vinci. Take a taxi, Diana.
Dinner is served.