FOWC: Nebulous



A few years ago, I lived in a caravan; a nice one with 3 bedrooms, one with an en-suite and another bathroom. I was going through a tough time which warrants no explanation  as its none of anyones business. However one day I received a large box in the post; it was left on my veranda, safe from thieves, very few folk passed daily aside from a few dog walkers in the fields opposite and the odd car trying to beat the traffic further up the road. So no one would take the box, no one would have noticed it apart from my neighbour who lived with her child and her chain smoking Mum; they looked out for me, and would sign for any parcels delivered for me, if they needed signing for.

The box, I discovered to my delight was full of wine, 12 bottles, from my friend who i’ll call J to protect his identity. It was from The Naked Wines company and with the bottles, came stickers, leaflets and special offers. Days later, over a tepid weekend, when I was nearing the end of a bottle of red, I must have visited the website and joined the club. Another bloody wine club, I’ve knowledge of these; I’ve joined enough over the years, and thinking back I probably have quite a few Nebulous memories, possibly maybe false memories of entering my bank details into an online form, or a actual physical form and  waiting the couple of days for the wine to arrive, Smugly accepting the nectar and filling my wine rack, filling it for a day or two only before it dwindled to nothing over the following days and weeks.

So very so often, as my monthly £20 drops into the Naked Wines cash lake and my account balance climbs and climbs, I check to see what I have, and bugger me, if I didn’t have £160 languishing there ready to spunk on a case and some, of fine wine. They choose it, I don’t know enough about it, the last wine tasting I went to ended in utter carnage, the beginning didn’t promise much as only 6 of us turned up and we had enough wine to sink a coracle between us. God knows  we drank 4 different whites and by the time we reached the reds no one had any idea what we were drinking, nor cared for that matter.

This week the sun shined and my fuzzy head thought about Naked Wines, as it is programmed to do every 6 or 8 months, the phone was opened, the web site browsed and pithing 10 minutes I had ordered the mixed special, with a free bottle of something else and a couple of cheeky spaniards. The next day the box arrived, this time they put it round at the side of my house, the neighbours are no longer there, I’m not in caravan and myself and Mrs T enjoyed a very nice bottle of Syrah from France. So if you’re reading this and you’ve £20 spare a month get Naked and sup-a-plenty.

Christ, this sounds like an advert, may I point out that I am not getting anything for this post, even though my readership spans the globe (not yet North Korea but I’m working on it).

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