So...what do you suppose happened when I, a definite light-weight in the alcohol department, was talked into having a glass of wine tonight? I told the hosts that if I were to drink a whole glass of wine that they would have to take me out to my car in a wheelbarrow, but did that make him give me a glass of cola instead? I think you can guess the answer to that rhetorical question.
- "It's just wine, Zelda, not straight whiskey!" -
- "Yeah, but..." "C'mon, it'll relax you!"-
- "Well, I have had a stressful day. So give me just half a glass." -
Now, to me, a chronic pessimist, a half a glass means A HALF A GLASS! To my host, who wanted to be entertained, a half a glass meant A FULL GLASS, which was regularly re-filled as I sipped at its pleasantly dry red, relaxing contents. And then, we played cards. I was the scorekeeper. All I can say is that it's a good thing we weren't playing for money. My normally faultless arithmetic skills disolved into the winey mist. No one could remember whose turn it was to deal, how many cards were to be dealt or who had played what card.
- But we had a good time, as far as I can remember. And someone, who could hold his liquor infinitely better than I could, drove me home. I think. Well...I'm home anyway. In one piece. And I'm smiling.
3 comments:
Was there a rowdy, chanting crowd and a funnel with hose involved with your guzzling, I mean, drinking?
If it puts a smile on you face it must be good, Madam Z. If you visited my place, I'd buy a bottle of wine and a wheelbarrow.
Nothing wrong with a cheap drunk. It's the smiling that counts. :)
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