Stephen Fahey: The Midday Wine Club

Now that our little shits are locked back up in their cages for a few hours every day, the long overdue, long awaited, official reopening of the Midday Wine Club will take place at noon this Monday, September third. New club members are to familiarise themselves with the rules (listed below) before attending club meetings and standing members are encouraged to assist all new members in acclimatising to the club ethos.

 

Rule number one: Always collect the little shits. I know, I know, it’s not the best news in the world, but they would, eventually, be delivered to you by the school or by the police anyway. And while it’s tempting to not collect the them and just hope that they will live at school forever, getting arrested will only ruin a good buzz. A handy method is to pretend to take up jogging, so when you arrive at the school to collect the little shits and you’re sweaty and out of breath, people will think that you’re being super productive and healthy when in fact you’re half pissed.

 

Rule number two: Do not overeat at meetings. I know, food helps to fend off drunkenness, which makes this rule sound like a recipe for trouble. However, too much food will lead to sleepiness, especially when drinking at noon. This means that you’d only be a blanket and a fluffy throw pillow away from involuntarily breaking rule number one. So don’t overdo it. Also, if biscuits and cakes suddenly start to disappear in large quantities then the little shits will notice and they’ll raise the alarm. Which leads us to rule number three.

 

Rule number three: The Midday Wine Club is a secret organisation. While we all deserve at least one large glass of wine per day, which itself is not illegal, or even immoral (whatever that means), the regular and hearty consumption of booze between noon and one o’clock each school day (or once per week if you’re a wuss), even in the privacy of one’s own home, is not entirely socially acceptable – because society is filled with hypocritical assholes who themselves have little shits and yet still insist on demonising borderline alcoholism as a means of dealing with the horror of being a parent. Thus, it’s better to not draw attention to the club.

 

Rule number four: If your little shit is ill and home from school then you have to host. As a responsible club member it is your duty to assist your fellow members in the pursuit of happiness. Their turn will inevitably come, and they will be expected to uphold their duty too. Also, if your little shit is home sick from school you probably won’t be able to go anywhere anyway, but that doesn’t mean you won’t need a tasty beverage. In fact, with a little shit, or, God forbid, multiple little shits roaming your home day and night like a pack of rabid hyenas, a few bevvies are likely more needed than ever.

 

Rule number five: Midday Wine Club is not bound to any one location. It can be held in public, either at coffee shops, bars, hotels, restaurants, in fields, carparks, gardens, on the street, up a mountain or anywhere you like. However, the comfort and privacy of one’s home is optimal. The reasons for this are twofold. First, being away from the prying and hypocritical eyes of a world that claims to understand our pain, but clearly doesn’t, also keeps the Midday Wine Club off the radar of the pesky moral-police/blue rinse brigade. Secondly, the likelihood of becoming known as “one of those people who drink wine every day while their little darlings are in school” is all but inevitable for anyone who is not living in a city large enough to rotate locations often enough to not become “those people”. Which, of course, would violate rule number three.

 

Rule number six: Red wine can and should always be refrigerated. The Sicilian way is to chill red. This is the right way and the rest of the world is wrong. Whether or not it’s Sicilian red (which itself merits thorough examination), chilling red improves both taste profile and mouth feel, and makes it go down far more easily, especially on a warm day. Yes, this easy deliciousness increases the danger, but who wants live a boring life. It also makes a cheap and crappy red into a cheap and not so crappy red.

 

Rule number seven: Unless you belong to a specific chapter, then you’re your own chapter. Whether you’re outright antisocial or a new member who hasn’t found a chapter yet, or if you live in a remote area, or you’re just too lazy to give a shit and would rather drink alone then you don’t need to feel like you can’t enjoy membership of the MWC. Registration is free. There is no paperwork to fill out. And if you can’t find a chapter, you can just make one up. Or not, and drink away to your heart’s content, growing more and more bitter by the glass, like any other properly functioning member of society.

 

Having fellow members is useful, though. Not only for sharing in the cost of all the wine you’re going to need, but if you have a buddy system then you can arrange shifts for collection of your little shits by doubling or tripling up with friends. Which also means that you’ll be doubling or tripling the frequency of that wonderful third glass. Also, money saved on petrol and diesel can then be pooled for more or better wine. And the more you drink the happier you’ll be, especially seeing as you have to deal with little shits and big shits (also known as a partner), who of course thinks their job is somehow more stressful than “staying at home all day”. So win-win. And win. And fuck them, I’ll drink as much as I bloody well want!

 

Lastly, while club members are advised to not heed the advice of anyone and just live their lives their way without the yokes of guilt or shame weighing them down, please don’t drink and drive. You might spill your wine.

Stephen Fahey

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