What the hell is that you are drinking?
El-Jefe sputtered as I quaffed heartily from my glass.
It was our Friday afternoon catch up call. A call in which we both made a futile attempt at sounding interested in work and planning for the upcoming week.
Huh, what do you mean?
I retorted as if he had just caught me sewing a series of small cat vaginas together into a fetching bunting for the upcoming Cats of Spring parade.
What do you mean, what do I mean? It's bloody well obvious what I mean?! What is that, that in your hand?!
El-Jefe jabbed a finger at the glass in my hand which was no mean feat given that he was looking at me on a pokey laptop screen.
Oh this?
I turned the glass in my hand so that the amusing horned skull nonsense on it was fully visible for the Jefemeister. You like it? You can get them online. I will send you the link if you like? We can be the Skull Dogs!! Raaar! I chortled and raised my glass in a clashing Viking salute to him as if we were two hairy Northmen feasting over our fallen foes. The what?! The what dogs? I don't think that would be very appropriate. El-Jefe made a flubbling noise with his ample jowls and shook himself like a particularly wet Otter. But no, no. That is not what I meant. I meant what is in the glass? What are you drinking? The furrows on his brow became so deep his forehead looked as if it was comprised entirely of buttocks. I looked at my glass and then at El-Jefe on the screen. Ah... I get you. You are wondering what I am drinking? Well, that is simple, my soon to be fellow Skull-Dog. It is Kombucha. Salted Lime Kombucha, to be precise. I took a sip of the straw-coloured slightly fizzy liquid. Mmm Mmm, delicious. El Jefe looked like someone had asked him why the cow had crossed the road. Komboooocha? He rolled the word in his mouth like a cough sweet. And what the hell is Kombucha? To say he looked suspicious would be a masterclass in understatement. Kombucha? You mean you have never heard of Kombucha? It's... it's like a fermented drink or something. I waved a hand around breezily as if telling a removal man to just put that box over there. A fermented drink? But what's in it? El-Jefe hunched forward. What's in it? Erm, I dunno... fungus or something? Might be mould, maybe? To be honest I was not sure. I remembered something about the Mother but that might have been Apple Cider Vinegar. Was it bacteria? Fungus? Mould? Ugh, Boomdawg, you are an odd one at times. El-Jefe's face broke out in a huge smile. Hang on a minute though. He stood and went off-camera. I heard the unmistakable sound of a can opening and then he marched back into frame with a pint glass full to the brim with some cheapish looking lager. Aye aye, boss-man. Now, what is that you are drinking? I asked with an eyebrow crooked heavenward in a way that Spock would be proud of. Oh this. It's just some... Kombucha. Cheers! El-Jefe winked at me and raised his glass for a big foamy sip. I raised mine in return and smiled feebly. El-Jefe winking and joking and even worse, drinking beer on the job? I'm getting too old for this shit.
I do have a weakness for a nice glass it must be said
...to get to the MOO-vies!