Whine and cheese

My social life these days is shot.
Not that it was very hectic at anytime.
That said, I used to socially meet many more people than I do now.
There is one type I remember fondly, mostly because I don’t meet any these days.
The type who wore their commitment to liberal causes on the sleeves of their Fab India kurtas and kurtis.
It was fun listening to them for about fifteen minutes. After which the first signs of gastric trouble would cloud my horizon. Perhaps because my constitution could take only that much whine and cheese. Though, I must admit, some of them served indubitably fine whine.
May I apologize, through this somewhat widely read blog, to all those whose whine, over the years, I have not done justice to. My constitution is sturdier now and they perhaps will give me another chance. After all whines get better with age don’t they? As long as methinks, it is not new whine in old bottle. So please feel free to write or call.
Shall we then move on to Waisty and Soda? Then perhaps I should abstain. Because a pun stretched is no fun at all.