Kit Harington is terribly, terribly sorry that he’s late for your picnic, but he’s power walking over from the grocery store right now with a bag full of Tropicana and one freshly baked baguette. He hopes you don’t mind, but he already helped himself to one of the San Pellegrino blood orange-sodas (he stopped calling them aranciata rossa after you told him he sounded like he was imitating Giada De Laurentiis, in a mean way).
Anyway, he’ll be there in ten minutes … oh, wait. Make that 20. He forgot the Brie and left that bottle of your favorite rosé in his fridge.
This day is a disaster.