We know that adverts are supposed to seduce and present
a glamorous and unreal version of our reality but sometimes the enticing set-up
they have so beautifully put together falls apart when it comes to the product
they are trying to pass off as fitting this beauteous scenario. Our suspension of disbelief is totally
destroyed by the arrival of a crappy product. Like watching a prima ballerina
give her crotch a good scratch in the middle of Swan Lake.
The case in point here is this lovely scenario...Twilight at
a beautiful coastal crofter’s cottage. This is the sort of romantic rural
escape that so many of us dream of; all olde worlde simplicity and hand crafted
furniture. A phone call signals unexpected guests. We glimpse a faithful family
mutt sticking its head out of a car’s window as the car wends its way along the
rugged landscape. The cottage inhabitants prepare to make the visitors welcome
with an impromptu feast. Rugs and wool blankets are grabbed, a rustic table is
held aloft and carried outside and a fire is lit, as a night time alfresco
feast is prepared to be served in the chilly night air. How welcoming. How enticing.
You want to be there. And what delights can we expect at this sumptuous and
romantic feast...?
A nice, watery bowl of canned soup.
Now, I have nothing against Baxter’s soup; they’ve got me
through many a lunch time. They have a
wholesome appeal and are a relatively healthy and low calorie choice, but if I’d
slogged hours in the car to join friends at their charming cottage and
delightful night-time picnic I’d be pretty disappointed to receive a watery
bowl of tinned soup. Ooh, they push the boat out with a whole tin each!
Tightwads. Won’t be staying with them again.
