Surprisingly compliant on official advice

I never thought I’d utter these words but after M-Day I have taken to using a line from Adam Ant, one of Britain’s most underrated beat poets.

For months I had ignored the prospect of wearing masks, mainly because Boris had said we didn’t need one.

Foreigners were welcome to run around in their countries wearing face coverings in the street, in the shops and probably in bed. But us Brits are different.

Coronavirus knows better than to strike Blighty. We won the war and the World Cup, once.

Besides, scientists said masks made no difference unless you already had Covid-19. But as none of us had been tested we were all in the clear.

The only problem was some of us had been watching the news and realised this bug could be quite nasty.

Furthermore, it is still there lurking in the shadows.

When Boris told us to stay indoors we surprised him and did as we were told.

I’m pretty sure he was expecting us to ignore him like we usually do so we’d go and catch the blighter and create

‘herd immunity’.

Instead, we battened down the hatches, bought enough toilet rolls to take us to 2030 and made up our minds to never shop again, unless it was from

Amazon.

So when Boris said shops could reopen, we stayed away in droves. This upset the shopkeepers.

So Boris said it was perfectly safe to go back, as long as we all wore masks. Apart from those who didn’t have to wear masks. But when you do go into the high street the only things shops are now selling are masks. You can get them in different colours. Some come with glitter. Mine’s like a dandy highwayman’s.

Stand and deliver...