Let the children play
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Desperately seeking red wine, I traipsed into the Sea Point Super Spar (ramp model training ground masquerading as a 'shop') on Saturday night. I knew they couldn't fuck with me - they HAD to let me buy booze. The antiquated no-booze-on-Sundays law couldn't touch me. It's Saturday! We win, Mr LAW! As long as Spar was open, I had access to red wine.

Wrong wrong wrong. They further ridicule us and treat us like children.

I stood, mouth agape, at the entrance to the wine section of the Super Spar. There was a RED rope around the section. Ok, you're kidding. Past experiences with the Humans and culture sent a message to my brain saying that this must SURELY be a V.I.P. rope. All I would have to do is have a word with the manager and make him aware of how VERY important I am and I'd be 'A' for away! Look, perhaps we could organise a guest list for next time? I never knew wine sections of the Super Spar were so exclusive these days.

After trying to outsource a manager I was told by a lady at the check out till that we have a BRAND SPANKING NEW LAW saying that we, the little children, can't buy booze after 5 on a Saturday.

[silence]

"What are you talking about, Freak Show?"

"That ees the law", the Cape Spanish looking lady informed me.

I decided I would address the shop and, after clearing my throat, shouted as loud as I could, "DOES ANYONE KNOW WHEN WE ARE ALLOWED TO DRINK AGAIN?".

A 79 year old senile Jewish lady with blue hair, boob tube and Yorkshire Terrier, looked at me like I was the anti-Christ. She was in my way as I charged towards the exit of the shop, wanting to rid myself of the evil evil angry situation I was in.

"Move it or lose it, sister !" I informed her, as I charged ahead. She realised I clearly was the anti-Christ and removed herself, and her blind Yorkie, from my flightpath.

I remembered that being treated like an adult came at a price. I drove directly to GIOVANNI'S in Green Point. Always a pleasure - never a chore. There's nothing like shopping with the ipod wielding Giovanni's models - hair up, with a few strands falling in the face - special.

No-one batted an eye lid as I selected two bottles of red wine. I'm giving the 'Durbanville Hills 2002 merlot" a bash at the moment. I was raised in a home where my mother would serve the guests the expensive stuff and secretly fill herself up with Drostdy Hoff Extra Light five liter box wine. A few years on and it's more common than milk in my own fridge. Apparently the Drostdy Hoff red box wine is also a little devil! That said, I don't know the first thing about wine, but this Durbanville Hills stuff is some good shit! So excited at being treated like an adult, I lost control of myself and left Giovanni's R200 later with all sorts of stuff. I've got three packs of MELBA TOAST I don't know what the fuck to do with. I've got cooked chicken breasts, lasagna, matured cheddar cheese, green pepper Tobasco sauce, another bottle of plonk and God knows what else. It was fun and I left with a smile on my face - afar cry from possibly harming an elderly woman (with a Yorkie) in the Spar.

If you want red wine, and you need red wine, you MUST get red wine. Don't give up. Go out there and don't take no for an answer. Somewhere, somehow.... they're selling it.

Seth Rotherham
Editor
2oceansvibe.com
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