Well, the Greeks Don’t Like Her Much
Sometimes, you just know a date is gonna go bad before it even happens. The hottest girl in high school has a date with the Chess Club president; dazzle her with your opening “King’s Gambit” and then show her your Indian defence – it’s the only chance you got man!
So, Merkel is gonna have a “pre-summit” dinner with Hollande of France; she with all the gold, he the socialist beggar looking for Eurobonds to spread periphery country risk to Germany. That this will end in disaster I’m fairly confident.
No, the real news from this event is this; who’s doing the catering?
If it’s up to Merkel, expect bratwurst with boiled cabbage and plenty of the steamy Kraut stuff, washed down with warm Heineken. Geez, it will take weeks to get the Kraut stench out of the dining room.
If it’s up to Hollande, expect Chilean Sea Bass in white wine sauce, asparagus spears drizzled with lemon sauté, a fresh raspberry soufflé for dessert, and wash it all down with a nice ’93 French Chardonnay [don’t get the ’95, it was a bad year].
“Honey, can we have this French menu tonight?”
“Shut up and eat your macaroni and cheese w/hot dog.”
Of course, if the “date” takes place in Brussels, where they hate both the Germans and the French, whatever they fix I’d have the taste testers in the room pronto.
And like all dates gone bad, where everybody looks to save some face and pretend all is well before it’s over, both will smile for the cameras and say something inane.
“So, Can I call you again Angela?”
“Sure Francois [rolling her eyes], but I got to tell you your chances are about one in a billion.”
“So you’re sayin’ I got a chance!! YESSSSSSSSSS.”
And so “Dumb & Dumber” [European political version] gets played out for all to see.
Don’t you just feel all warm and fuzzy with love stories like this?
Have a good day everyone.