COS­MOPOLI­TAN CON­TRACT

The bar­be­cue

Cosmopolitan (UK) - - Contents - Signed: (The Grill Sergeant)

1 ALL FIRED UP

The Grill Sergeant will wake up on a boiling hot week­end and de­cide to have a spon­ta­neous bar­be­cue. ‘BBQ! To­day! Mine!’ she will mes­sage every­one, and start googling recipes for meat rubs. The Grill Sergeant will un­earth the bar­be­cue from its usual home, draped in cob­webs un­der­neath that row­ing ma­chine she never uses. Half­way through chip­ping off the rust and evac­u­at­ing the colony of spi­ders, her phone will beep. Every­one is busy.

2 GAR­DEN OF DE­LIGHTS

Just two weeks and three Doo­dle Polls later, The Grill Sergeant will have her spon­ta­neous bar­be­cue. It will be cloudy. She will spend a long time un­tan­gling her fairy lights and put on a playlist called ‘Sun­shine!!!’ to try to make up for the weather. The playlist will be limited to the great­est hits of Bob Mar­ley, Grace­land by Paul Si­mon and half an Ibiza ‘chill-out’ al­bum from 2001.

3 MEAT FEAST

When peo­ple ask what to bring, The Grill Sergeant will re­ply ‘Noth­ing, just your­selves!’ She will end up ask­ing ev­ery sin­gle per­son to pick up some­thing on their way, as she is too busy mas­sag­ing the five-spice pork belly. The Grill Sergeant will then skewer hal­loumi and mar­i­nate sei­tan for her friend’s ve­gan girl­friend. Later, the girl­friend will an­nounce that she’s ac­tu­ally only a flexi-ve­gan, and

go to town on the Taste The Dif­fer­ence lamb kof­tas.

4 UP IN YOUR GRILL

The Grill Sergeant will tell peo­ple to drop by ‘from 3pm.’ This means they will all turn up at 6.30, ex­cept one weird guy from her of­fice who she didn’t even re­alise was on the What­sApp group. Weird Guy will then pro­ceed to ex­plain ev­ery sin­gle thing he knows about bar­be­cues, and all the ways in which she is do­ing it wrong. Later he will take all the ice and peas out of her freezer to make room for a vodka-in­fused wa­ter­melon that only he will eat.

5 MAL­IBU BARBIE

In an ef­fort to stick it to the pa­tri­archy, The Grill Sergeant will in­sist she doesn’t need any help get­ting the bar­be­cue go­ing. It will im­me­di­ately start driz­zling. She will stand in a plas­tic pon­cho, blow­ing fee­bly on the hot coals for 45 min­utes, yelling, “The pork belly won’t be much longer!” while every­one stands in­side drink­ing and eat­ing Ket­tle Chips. Even­tu­ally The Grill Sergeant will re­turn to the house, proudly hold­ing a plate of black sausages and charred chicken drum­sticks. These will turn out to still be raw in the mid­dle. Some­body will De­liv­eroo a take­away.

6 SPIR­ITS WILL NOT BE DAMP­ENED

The rain will fi­nally stop, and The Grill Sergeant will make every­one go back to the gar­den where she will light lots of tealights to make things feel sum­mery and bo­hemian. Every­one will sit round shiv­er­ing in hood­ies, pre­tend­ing to be ex­cited about melt­ing choco­late but­tons in­side a hot ba­nana. Af­ter singe­ing off some knuckle hair in a small flam­béed pineap­ple in­ci­dent, The Grill Sergeant will de­cide it is safer to just drink the rum in­stead.

OH, THOSE SUM­MER NIGHTS

Even­tu­ally, some time af­ter 1am, every­one will leave. The Grill Sergeant will find her­self alone sur­rounded by empty bot­tles, dirty pa­per plates, three tubs of coleslaw and ap­prox­i­mately 372 bread rolls. She will sud­denly re­mem­ber the pork belly. It will be cooked to per­fec­tion.

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