No, seriously, how unreservedly unlucky, defying precious laws of probability, do you need to be to contract a tiny virus travelling from four designated corners of the world, into a (relatively non-globalised) city of a 20 million-plus — affecting people only in tens or hundreds, initially? Because you came in direct contact with those very specific few. Or, indirectly touched objects that they probably had, along the way?

Don't get me wrong. At no point am I suggesting that we turn into folk more commonly afflicted with the moron(a) virus, taking the novel Corona lightly — stepping out and chilling like nothing will ever happen to us. For one, it's not about us — no matter how heroic you feel in the head (your bravado means nothing).