Bernie Rosé

  • Have you any spare wine ma?
  • There’s no such thing as spare wine, Whitney.
  • Well, do you have a bottle I could borrow?
  • You don’t know the meaning of borrow. You take and never return.
  • I do so.
  • Where are the last dozen bottles you ‘borrowed’ then?
  • When?
  • Every time you’re going out you take a bottle and say you’ll return it but you never do.
  • I bought you a bottle for your birthday.
  • That was supposed to be a present.
  • …and you never drank it.
  • I didn’t drink it because as you well know, I don’t drink rosé.
  • Do you still have it?
  • Since March? Seriously?
  • Who drank it?
  • I did, one night in June.
  • But you don’t like rosé
  • There was nothing else. I drank it in desperation. I blame the covid.
  • You blame everything on the covid ma.
  • Well, I never drank rosé before I had the covid.
  • So you’re a rosé drinker now?
  • I said I was desperate but I’m not that desperate. It was a one off.
  • I suppose I’d better go to the offo so, unless you loan me one from your stash in the garage.
  • Who told you about that? Jesus Mary and Joseph, is nothing sacred in this house?
  • Why are you hiding it?
  • Why do you think? It’s so the likes of you and Koko don’t keep ‘borrowing’ it.
  • This is the last time, ma. I swear.
  • You can replace it tomorrow.
  • But you have two boxes out there.
  • I don’t care if I’ve ten boxes; you’d better replace it…and don’t be bringing back any of that rosé shite.

Feck sake. You can have nothing for yourself in this house.

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