Weirder and Weirder

The Blind Date feature in Saturday's Guardian continues to shed new and fascinating light on what drives the next generation. The lady in this week's feature responded thus:

What were you hoping for?
To meet my future husband. Or a plate worth Instagramming.

Apparently her job is "visual merchandiser". I know what a merchandiser does - many years ago my firm employed a number of them to restock the shelves at retailers who carried our line of computer games - so I suppose a visual merchandiser restocks the shelves at opticians. And it must be a rather lonely and demanding occupation, endlessly clearing away unfashionable frames and tidying up the little cardboard holders, then laying out the gleaming new frames and lining them up in order of desirability, whilst clients waiting for their new specs blunder about in the manner so accurately depicted by advertisements for such places.

Is this why, instead of taking a photo of a tasty dish which she then edits to her own satisfaction, she can can only think of it in terms of the website that will deform the picture with some filter or special effect they deem suitable?

Actually, it was her prospective partner who really caught my attention. Described as a "technology journalist" [Amazing, a job description even I understand: Ed] he gave us the following deathless quote:

And... did you kiss?
She has read only one of the Harry Potter books, which weirds me out a little, so no.

Imagine his chagrin at meeting an attractive, and available, young lady who has read but a single, solitary, measly one of the sacred writings. Although clearly not a total barbarian, her feet are but on the first rung of the divine ascent, her novicehood plain for all to see, unworthy to be in the company of one on whom Grace has been bestowed by virtue of not merely having read all the canon of the blessed Rowling, but owning a hand-tooled boxed set of the works, each personally signed by no less than Amanda, assistant to the PA to the Lady. Those of us unfit even to put our foot on the first step of that holy mountain may still shiver in sympathy at the prospect of one who has been initiated attempting close physical contact with one who has failed to accept Ms Rowling as her redeemer.

"Weirds me out a little" - how kind and considerate to so temper what must have been emotions of rage and disgust. Perhaps there is hope for her, if she forgoes the devil's path of whipping out her phone every time someone puts food in front of her and devotes herself to the worship of Harry.

I never knew that young people put literary achievement ahead of a quick snog. How times have changed.