Trouble with the bubbles
Diary of a home bird
FOOL me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. Never has a quote summed up the last week of my life better. On these very pages two weeks ago I detailed my exploits in opening a bottle of wine, with what I still feel was a ‘gammy bottle opener’.
Since then I have had many members of the public issue words of wisdom in relation to the dilemma I found myself in. A colleague even passed on a video on the art of opening a wine bottle and I took it all on board, I thought. Just before a recent trip even a local wine expert reminded me not to forget the all important bottle opener.
The roomies always used to say I was a bit heedless, with the eternal utterings of them asking, ‘I know you’re hearing me but are ya listening’ being a much remembered memory.
And I proved my incapabilities to learn from my mistakes recently on a trip to Killarney for the annual musical society awards.
I surprised myself being somewhat prepared. I had half a bag packed the night before and my dress collected from the dry cleaners. I remembered to pick up a bottle of prosecco for me and my musical roomies for the weekend, and even chilled it the night before, ensuring it would be the ultimate thirst quencher as we made it to Killarney, for a weekend of singing and dancing. I really went all out, even organising plastic champagne flutes.
And despite the pilot forgetting the freezer box for our ‘fizzy pop’ we hit for the Kingdom in good spirits, and hey it only took us...five hours, with pitstops for some ball gown essentials. Arriving at our destination we trudged up to our room laden down with boxes, shopping bags and the all important fizzy pop.
As our room was a toasty 28 degrees I set about opening Tesco’s finest only to discover that this bottle was not for popping. The famous Alanis Morrisette lyrics from the song ‘Ironic’ came to mind ‘It’s like 10,000 spoons and all you need is a knife’, alas we didn’t even have a knife, or a spoon for that matter.
Once again returning to ‘MacGyver mode’ I remembered my colleague’s video and figured there would have to be some YouTube clip on how to open the bottle without a wine opener. I got one, a man nonchalantly opening a bottle of wine using a shoe and a wall.
As I thought it would raise a few eyebrows knocking on neighbouring hotel rooms asking ‘could I borrow your shoe’, one of the girls tested it out in her fashionable coral wedge heel, but again it just wasn’t going to do the job.
We admitted defeat, filling up a sink of water to keep the bottle cool (in the off-chance we would locate an opener later in the night), our attempts were futile and we returned to the room later that night, draining the sink.
The following day it was all systems go, hair appointments booked, we agreed that the first one finished their appointment would venture to the nearest shop and make the purchase.
Bingo, one standard bottle opener later, we sipped the grapey goodness as we laughed about my incompetence.
And what did we learn landing back in Ballinrobe the following day? One of the Ballinrobe Musical contingent (in the room beside us) had a handy little bottle opener on his Swiss army knife. How convenient.
In her fortnightly Diary of a Home Bird column, Ciara Galvin reveals the trials and tribulations of a twenty-something year old still living with her parents.