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Peter Rosengard

ByPeter Rosengard, Peter Rosengard

Opinion

Gherkin hotline preserved my life

How the pickled fruit helped me when I was feeling lonely

February 25, 2010 14:07
2 min read

Before getting into bed last night, I wrote down the 24-hour emergency hotline number that was on the jar of gherkins I'd just bought. You just never know when you'll need to make that call. Admittedly, assuming that you haven't slipped in the shower while eating a gherkin (a proctologist once told me where he'd found a small bust of Napoleon - unfortunately we were just about to eat), the chances of anyone having a gherkin emergency in the wee small hours are small, but I like to be on the safe side.

"Thank you for calling the Gherkin Hotline," says the person picking up the call, who laughs. "I'm sorry sir, it's just that I can't believe that someone's finally called us. It's Sharmeena speaking, do you have a gherkin emergency?" Hysterical giggles.

"Yes I do. You see, it's 4am and I've suddenly realised that I'm down to my last gherkin."

Long Pause. "Ok… the truth is that I'm a middle-aged, divorced man, and I'm lonely; I just needed someone to talk to.