Occasionally, I attempt to post some kind of meaningful comment on Twitter or Facebook. This is always soundly ignored by the general public, who rightly turn their backs on such pseudo-intellectual posturing. Yet I have noticed that whenever I post some nonsense about wine or other such frippery, the response is nothing short of overwhelming.
Take tonight, for example. Coming home weary and disgruntled from work, I commented that I felt the need to establish an emergency new tradition: Wednesday Night Wine Night. Within a few minutes I'd had a number of enthusiastic responses, including a suggestion on Facebook that we throw caution to the wind and simply go for the equally alliterative Weekday Night Wine Night.
Now, Wednesdays have traditionally been dead space for me, a nothing sort of night without even the prospect of a new episode of America's Next Top Model to brighten it up. True, before my gym membership lapsed I did occasionally jig about the swimming pool with some nice old ladies doing aquacise on a Wednesday, but this hardly counts as living the high life. Indeed, the whole thing was utterly counter-productive, as the gym was part of a hotel with a restaurant, and the walls of the pool were plastered with pictures of burgers and roast dinners; combine this flagrantly cruel advertising with a crazy bunch of endorphins telling you, erroneously, that you have clearly burnt off enough calories for a burger AND a couple of pints of lager, and you tend to come out a little fatter than you went in.
But now, with The Mark Addy's splendid Gourmet Nights on the last Wednesday of every month, and the tender fledgling (to be carefully nurtured) that is Wednesday Night Wine Night, the dullest evening of the week is starting to look a little fancy-pants glamorous. If you know of any other glorious mid-week events on the horizon, please let me know - I'll bring the wine...