So I want a drink...

...and there is sweet Fanny Adams in the flat. Actually, that is a lie. There are several delicious beverages in the flat. Such as the "wine based Caprihina flavoured" monstrosity that Lena insisted on buying on her birthday (I was pushing the trolley around Lidl so had no hands free to wrestle it back onto the shelves, the reason I was pushing the trolley was because I was too hungover to stand up unaided). I would give it a taste but the last time I did I got oddly drawn into its revolting, neon green clutches and only stopped drinking it because Sara arrived and I was too embarassed to to it in front of someone.

The second option is a bottle of white that's been in there for yonks. The reason it's been in there for yonks may or may not be related to the fact that I cannot drink white wine any more. This may or may not be related to Christmas Day 2007.

There is a third of a bottle of red left, its name is "Ciao!" (as opposed to "Bon Soir!", which is the first cooking wine Lena and I got properly into. Many bon soirs were had, let me tell you) and the obligatory bit of Tafel wein in a box but for some reason neither of them are appealing much.

There is a bottle of tequila (well, some) on the door of the fridge, but I cannot drink tequila as my first drink of the evening. Maybe if I was in Mexico and it was proper tequila but hells no to a bottle that comes with a shiny plastic sombrero that Lena insists is for drinking out of. It is not, and will only make you spill it out of the corners of your mouth and down your top and make you look like a total maniac.

There is also a quarter of a bottle of Club Mate which might have vodka in it. I can't imagine why any one would have saved just a quarter bottle of Club Mate.

Have just tasted it and someone did indeed just save a quarter bottle of Club Mate. Dear God. Have poured myself a glass of Ciao! to help me get over the shock.