You terribly delicious box of shitty wine. I tried you for the first time last night. When you first touched my lips you were an abomination to all I hold dear. Disgusting, repulsive, even obnoxious to my senses.
However, there was something alluring about it all. You, you horrid spirit had some deep seated charm that had yet to be explored. I had to have another sip. Your bitter sweet melancholy of flavors flooded over my tongue. I felt confused.
"Clearly this must be god's piss," I murmured to myself as a sudden violent urge to expel my dinner overtook me.
"Ugh," I gasped. This cannot be good for my body. I knew I had to make a last stand against this vile drink.
"I WILL NOT DEGRADE MYSELF ANY FURTHER WITH THIS MONSTROSITY", I cried out as I stood up from the table in what could only be described as firm authority.
The entire hostel fell quiet. Anxious eyes watched me and the trembling cup wondering what would happen next. Clearly this was a night where serious decisions had to be made. The course of my Australian drinking career would be decided within the next twenty seconds. I could feel it within my bones.
A hand fell upon my shoulder.
"What the fuck do you want Billy?!?" I screamed, eyes filling with madness.
"Give the goon a chance my son. Appreciate the sweet nectar of all that is Australian Box Wine. Plus, its cheap. Its oh so cheap."
"Listen you yellow tailed pygmy fuck," I growled, "I don't need you or anyone telling me what to drink."
"Its $12 for 4 liters Husain," said Billy, apparently unfazed from my vicious insults about his appearance.
This jolted me back into reality.
"Twelve....for FOUR....," I managed to sputter out.
"Yes my son," replied Billy as a smile creeped onto his lips, knowing his work here was done.
I glanced down into my coffee cup where the white liquid sloshed around in a hypnotic circle. It had to be done. The time to put all judgements aside and to to appreciate this drink was at hand.
In one gigantic act of heroism I gulped the entire contents down in two sips. I stood there, empty cup in hand not knowing what to feel. Sadness in that I had betrayed good taste for the sake of budgeting, and anger that Billy had finally managed to one up me (pygmy fuck).
"Say something," whispered a voice from the corner of the room.
My brown eyes flicked up from the floor. Every single person was watching me like a hawk.
"What needs to be said," I croaked, "FILL UP ANOTHER CUP!"
A cheer arose from the crowd. Confetti fell from the ceiling and much gallantry occurred. I knew I had found my australian vice.
So here is to you Goon. May you always treat me well and never cause me pain and suffering. For if you do, I will switch back to beer.
Amen. I think.
Its still cold. Leave me alone :)