Shortly after the concept of employment began, way back in human prehistory, the excruciating torture of the work social began. In answer to a million desperate glances at watches, Chardonnay rose fully formed from the ashes of a barbecue to watch over all those hiding in the shrubbery and sobbing into their fourth cocktail. Chardonnay is always dressed smart-casual but is constantly desperate to take off her bra and slip into her pyjamas.
Worship of Chardonnay tends to take place in hired venues or outdoors. Any service you attend will somehow always also be attended by the same people you’ve had to put up with all week. The rites typically commence with lighting a ritual charcoal fire an hour in advance and then burning some sacrificial sausages on it. There will then usually be either a set meal (where no one can remember what they ordered 2 months ago) or a dry and curly buffet. There will follow a lengthy address by the Priest(ess) or “Boss”, who will desperately try to be funny. Throughout wine and ale will flow freely and worshippers must attempt to consume enough to lubricate their tolerance for the rest of the congregation whilst avoiding vomiting, crying or paralysis. The service will conclude with a sacred dance, usually to music from about 10 years previous. No one knows the correct moves to this dance, so they just stand in cliquey circles and jig on the spot awkwardly.
At special festivals, worshippers will draw lots to make a small, anonymous gift to a fellow worshipper that they could not give the tiny furry crack of a dead rat’s behind about. There are a few permanent Temples of Chardonnay. Their interiors are decorated with thousands of photocopies of bare bottoms. As you leave the Temple of Chardonnay a drunken wasp will be waiting to challenge you to a fight.
There are a few strange people out there who are genuinely enthusiastic followers of Chardonnay. Most people attending her rites are merely doing so out of a sense of duty, in an attempt at career advancement or to try and get “better acquainted” with Mo from accounts. These endeavours rarely end well.
Thank you to Gareth Wilden for suggesting Chardonnay.
Idol Scribblings Volume Two
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