Columns

3pm: I selected you from all the specials at New World because my math told me you had the highest standard drink-to-dollar ratio (thanks, NCEA Level One), and it was only polite to ensure that I got the most bang for John Key’s buck. I don’t need to take wine-tasting classes from OUSA to know that your “fruity aromas” and hints of “oaken undertones” will go perfectly with the fried chicken noodles from Manila Grill.
8pm: I’m drinking you out of a wine glass in the hopes of classing you up a bit but I probably shouldn’t have bothered because it’s as pointless as sending Snooki to Charm School or trying to get Lindsay Lohan to stay in rehab. This is because you taste how Joan Butcher’s breath smells; the only aroma you have is of piss on the side of a building, with some slight pubic hair undertones.
8:30pm: Hello, wine! You still taste like urine but I’m happy to tell you that it’s growing on me. You aren’t just any urine; you’re Jesus’ urine. You are what Bear Grylls would drink if he were in the Bible, which is fitting because being in Boogie Nights does feel a bit like an episode of Man vs. Wild, but with less manliness and more pelvic thrusts.
8:45pm: Did you know there is karaoke at Manila Grill?! I didn’t know that! The waiter just sang us “Uptown Girl” and it was fucking fabulous. He danced like he was on an episode of Ellen.
9:30pm: What was it like growing up in Wither Hills, wine? I bet it was nice there. Maybe you never got to see your home, though, like that snake from Harry Potter who was bred in captivity. Who knows, wine. Who knows.
10:15pm: I’ve introduced you to my friend called tequila. I know they say that three is usually a crowd but don’t worry wine, don’t worry, I’ve got this. Remember that they also say good things come in threes (which is true, for example (1) Destiny’s Child and (2) the Toy Story movies). Or is it that bad things come in threes? Who knows?
11pm: It’s definitely the case that good things come in threes, because why else would they have invented threesomes? That’s called logic, wine. And you help me use it all the time.
2:30am: Why, wine? Whhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
3:30am: Fuck you wine, I hate you. You’re a mean girl. You’re a bitch.
3:33am: I’m not angry at you, wine, I’m just disappointed.
3:45am: Good night wine, I love you so much, I’ll see you next Saturday xoxo.