Wine O’ Clock in the Culture Vulture Office

“Sometimes I just want to forget robots and drink wine with random people. How come you get all the best jobs, Phil?”

Emma stopped typing and slumped over her keyboard.

I wasn’t happy about the hint of accusation in her tone.

“Maybe it’s because you choose the hard stuff? I mean, robots …” I said, gathering a couple of glasses from the office sideboard. “Why would you do anything with robots? I can’t imagine choosing robots as a project. Robots mean work, and I wouldn’t want to be associated with that.”

I shuddered visibly.

“Yes, I have noticed your homeopathic approach to work,” said Emma. “You do so little we almost don’t notice you’re there.”

“Ah, but at least I do no harm,” I said, putting a glass on the desk besides Emma. “And if there’s a choice between robots and wine I know which way I’m leaning.”

“You’ll be leaning against the bar no doubt … Anyway, pour me a drink. It’s definitely wine o’ clock.”

“Hmm, well the white’s too warm – maybe we shouldn’t keep it next to the radiator? And the choice of red limited by the fact that we don’t have an office corkscrew … How come I work in an office with no corkscrew, Emma? This cannot be allowed to continue … put it on the intern’s To Do list; corkscrew for Phil. Urgent. In fact, tear up the To Do list and Tweet her right away to fetch me a corkscrew.”

“That’s not what an intern’s for,” snapped Emma, “Don’t be getting Nathalie into bad habits – she’s not here to enable you to drink more wine, she’s here to get work experience and learn!”

“Then it’s a funny place to choose” I said. “Last time I experienced work was back when we thought the idea of Australia ever producing a decent red was the stuff of Saturday night comedy sketches …”

I cast my eye over the row of bottles on the sideboard. “Strangely there isn’t any Australian in the selection we’ve been given to review – we’ll have to rectify that. So, how about … this one? A 2010 Nero D’Avola from sunny Sicily

“Just open it!” said Emma, still clattering robotically at the computer, “It’s been a long day. It’s wine O’clock.”

“No, you mustn’t drink and work Emma,” I said, “it’s just not civilised … forget the bloody robots for the evening and put some music on, then I’ll pour … says on the label that it’s bursting with ripe red and black cherry flavours.”

“Okay, I’m done … shall we order curry?”

“Label says, Why not try with a barbecue or a Sunday roast?”

“Why not try?” said Emma, evidently disgruntled, “Because it’s Friday night in the middle of January! And the Aagrah’s only next door. Let’s send Nathalie”

“Ah, so it’s fine to send the intern for a lamb tikka because you’re peckish but it’s ethically despicable if I send her out for a corkscrew? I hope you’ll be recording this for the report to her university department?”

“I’ll get you a bhaji,” Emma said

“Ha, you think you can buy off my moral compass with a battered mushroom! … throw in a popadom and you’re on.”

I am easily bought.

While Nathalie went to get the curries and Emma was busy choosing tunes I cracked open the wine.

“It says it has ripe red and black cherry notes … what’s a note got to do with it?”

“Hmm, cherries … honestly I don’t really care what it tastes like, I’ll happily drink whatever I’m offered … wine is wine. I suppose a note means … actually, no idea. Shall we tweet it? I’ve asked Twitter for the right tune to play for our little office soiree …Some wit has suggested Rene and Renato, Save Your Love?”

“Did you know there’s good scientific evidence that the music you choose to accompany wine affects the flavour” I said, stroking my chin academically. “This tune definitely adds a slug of syrup to the taste … can we turn it off now? That’s a song that goes best with cheese.”

“There aren’t that many songs about wine” remarked Emma … “UB40?”

“A bit obvious” I said, “but great video … my favourite is Dean Martin, Little Ole Wine drinker me … could be my theme tune.”

“Ooh, here’s the curry. Pour me another and I’ll dish up … Wonder how the wine goes with mushroom bhajis?”

“Well, it certainly holds its own … and the bhaji is proper hot … I thought you were meant to drink white wine with spicy food, or cold lager. But this is good,” I said, handing the bottle to Nathalie.

“Oh, I don’t like wine,” said Nathalie, shockingly, “I’m not grown up enough …”

Emma and I looked at each other and shook our heads ever so slightly.

“However will the poor kid cope in this office” we both thought, silently, and to ourselves.”

“Do you want to finish the bhaji?” I asked Nathalie, “Emma and I will finish the wine.”