7:52 p.m.: Drag my suit out of the back of my closet. I hate wearing this, but I’ll do almost anything for free wine.
8:03 p.m.: Friend arrives to pick me up. Ask him if showing up to a formal wine tasting high would be a bad thing. He informs me that it probably would be. Whoops. Too late.
8:15 p.m.: Arrive at wine tasting. A wondrous aroma surrounds me. Whites and reds beckon me from every corner. It’s as if Dionysus has opened the gates of heaven, raining bliss down upon me. Fuckkkk, I’m high.
8:31 p.m.: Literally down five glasses of expensive wine in 15 minutes. I ain’t even trynna taste this fancy–ass wine.
8:40 p.m.: I have found the cheese plate. I’ll hunker down here for a while so I can avoid awkward small talk.
8:44 p.m.: Seventh glass of wine. Moderation is for suckers.
8:53 p.m.: Head outside for some fresh air. See couple making out. They see me looking. Make a U–Turn. Outside was suffering from a severe lack of alcohol, anyway.
9:10 p.m.: 10th glass of wine. At least everyone else is getting drunker too. I have reached the point of the night where I start conversations with random strangers.
9:21 p.m.: “What do you mean you’ve never seen Titanic? I am depressed. You are actually depressing me right now.” Friend escorts me away.
9:37 p.m.: 14th glass of wine.
9:58 p.m.: Friend brings me outside to lecture me on my behavior. I try to spit out a retort, but vomit instead. That’ll show him. Master litigator I am.
10:06 p.m.: Oh god, here comes more. Dammit, I’m going to need to get this suit dry–cleaned.
10:11 p.m.: I’m pretty sure this is the most someone has ever thrown up at a wine tasting. I should get an award.
10:23 p.m.: Ok. I think I’m good. Leave smelling of vomit and victory. You can’t say I don’t go out with a bang.