Pharon Square was going to have a fun little "me night" tonight. Geo left me here in the tundra so that he could head out on a Guys Golf Weekend in sunny Palm Springs, so I had to entertain myself. I decided to curl up with some Chopped on TV and some exotic fare from a local dining secret gem (Subway). I had just set out my pedicure and facial supplies on the coffee table when I decided "Hey, you know what goes great with TV and a veggie delight sandwich? Vino."
I put my pants back on and headed out to the closest liquor store. I hadn't been there before, because it's in this tiny little strip mall next to some very sketchy-looking businesses, but I decided to be adventurous. And that's where things went off the rail.
Not surprisingly, I got lost. This place is literally 0.8 miles away from me and I got lost. Yikes. [Tears up college degree.] Finally, I got un-lost and went into this super teeny liquor store that smelled like smoke and armpits. The oldest man in the world popped out from the back room when I walked in and yelled "You made it through the blizzard!" (I'm not sure, but I think he thought it was 1991. I loved him immediately.)
I picked out a cheap bottle of wine that I remember we served at our wedding. It seemed fitting to drink it alone on the night my husband had ditched me for a weekend of golf and other men. When I brought it to the counter, Old Man River puffed "Ahh! A lovely choice! What's the occasion?" I started sweating. I couldn't be like "Well, I'm painting my nails with mud on my face while I watch people cook things on TV." So instead (and inexplicably) I lied.
"Oh, you know, just having some friends over for Girls Night In!" It sounded more pathetic saying it out loud than I could have even imagined.
Anyway, Father Christmas wished me well and sent me on my way.
When I got home, I set up my "dinner," turned on the ol' boob tube, put those disgusting toe-divider things that serve absolutely no purpose whatsoever in the pedicure process between my toes and heel-walked my way into the kitchen to open the bottle of wine.
We have this super fancy Rabbit wine opener that you just put over a bottle, push a button, and the cork comes out. The only thing I like more than drinking wine is drinking wine that is opened with magic. But this stupid rabbit did not come out of the hat. Instead, the thing screeched at me before the corkscrew snapped off. I was stuck holding a cheap bottle of wine with a broken-off screw stuck in it.
I managed to pull the screw out using pliers, a towel and brute force. Still the cork had not budged. I thought about pushing the cork INSIDE the bottle, but even that was too hard. It was not going well and Chopped was already starting.
As I wondering if this was rock bottom or not (considering that tonight I had lied to an old man, complained that my 6-inch sub was, in fact, NOT 6 inches and proclaimed out loud and to no one that Canada is just the worst) I remembered something. Now, I don't mean to brag, but I've been training my brain on the Lumosity app every day for like a week now, so my brain is functioning at the highest level possible (it doesn't teach you not to get lost though, BTW).
My friend Allyson got us a picnic basket for our wedding. Inside was silverware, some plates and a couple plastic wine glasses. I pulled the basket out of the closet and found the wine opener that I had suspected would also be included in the basket. Success!
After such a rough night of absolute lameness, I had gotten a major win. I pulled out the wine cork, poured the wine
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