Has anyone actually ever drank rose?

 On Saturday I had the misfortune to drink rose wine. 

Yes- right- first world problems- don’t be so ungrateful?! 

I think it had been languishing at the back of the garage for a while and I had gone off drinking beer, plus we had no red or white, so I thought I’d take the plunge. 

Worst decision ever… 

It tasted like sweet, sickly, mass produced, non fizzy pop and evoked a taste so disgusting that my neck shrivelled itself inside out in protest. Right in that moment I decided to cut my losses and poured the glass down the sink. And my wife’s glass. And the whole bottle. Then poured boiling hot water down the plug. Then bleach. Then drain cleaner. Then more bleach. Then replaced the sink. 

I simply do not know why anyone would drink the vile stuff. I didn’t even know how it had entered our house for that matter- I certainly didn’t buy it. Was it left over from university? I’m 38 now so hopefully not. 

That got me thinking- and I came up with a theory about rose wine. 

I think I got it as a gift- apologies if you bought it me- but you should have thought of a better present, or given me nothing at all. In fact I’d pay you to not give me rose. 

So I must have been given it as a gift. But why would the gifter actually buy rose? You would buy red or white wine, not Barbie pink. Was it from the bargain bucket? Cheeky if it was. The only thing I could think of was that surely they received it as a gift and regifted it to me?! Makes sense. The person they received it from also must as received it as a gift, and so on and so on thus a procession of regifting one rose bottle had begun. This was the only thing to explain it! Thousands of regiftings! 

So I think that this bottle of rose had been travelling the length and breadth of the country, in a series of guilty regiftings. It could have written it’s only Lonely Planet entry on Great Britain- certainly at least the North West of England! It passed from one person, to another, to another, to another until years later I foolishly opened it. 

I think only one bottle of rose has ever been made - my bottle- and the manufacturers gave up on it straight away on account of its vileness. The one bottle that escaped the net was released into a merry dance on a wild goose chase spanning the entire country. 

So if you have ever seen a bottle of rose, it has almost certainly disgraced my garage up until Saturday, when I killed it. I feel like the saviour of humanity- finally ridding the human race of that escaped bottle of pink vileness. If you’ve ever owned it- good on you for passing it on.

Only one problem remains though, at the back of my garage right now, is another bottle of rose…