Romance isn’t dead. It’s just incapacitated.
You wait ages for a reason to go to Manchester, and then two come along at once. Less than four days after I said goodbye to the metropolis of the north-west (following a delightful excuse to get drunk and dance badly), I’m back (no drinking, no dancing). Shortly after arriving in town, however, this newstand caught my eye.
You’ve got to admire the romantic sensibilities of the subject of this front page article. If my legs were stolen, I suspect the disruption to my imminent marriage wouldn’t be the most upsetting thing in my life. And this is just the morning edition of the M.E.N. If this is headline news in the morning, just imagine all the crap that’s still to go down today.