Why Wine is Not My Friend

For this #fbf, I thought I’d share a post I wrote last school year about a time when I embarrassed myself in front of an ungodly amount of my fellow colleagues. Spoiler alert: I’m as graceful as a bull moose. 

The local art museum in my town is rad. Not only do they offer many lavish costume events (last year they had a Steampunk event called Honest Abe’s Imagination Celebration where you got to view the Emancipation Proclamation. Badass), but they put on educator nights that are free, and if you attend all of the classes in a series, you get an inservice credit that goes toward your license renewal. 

Even better…

They serve free wine and delectable hors d’oeuvres. Tonight, they had stuffed mushrooms, artichoke cups, spring rolls, and moist brownies, with chocolate chips, and they were a little under-baked, so they were gooey, and melty, and…

Right. I’m getting a little too excited. Moving on. 

Did I mention before that they serve wine? Free wine. 

I’m not sure if I’ve discussed my inability to be an adult after more than one glass of any kind of alcoholic beverage, or not. In case I haven’t touched on that wonderful aspect of myself, let me quickly explain. I’m a lightweight. I’m the cheapest date there ever was. Buy me a beer and I’m done. 

So, there I was, with my peers and colleagues, drinking one sensible glass of wine, and trying not to get caught going to the food table for the fourteenth time. It was grand. We got to drink wine and eat for free. Could there be anything better to a broke, stressed-out teacher? Nope. 

Before I knew it, it was time to enter the auditorium. The learning bit. I’d almost forgotten there was an actual purpose for my being there–other than eating 18 mushrooms. 

I wasn’t even halfway through my glass of wine, and the food and drink wasn’t allowed in the auditorium. 

One of my colleagues suggested I chug it. 

I knew it was a bad idea. Anyone else after one glass of wine would be fine. Untouched. Not under the influence at all. Me? The direct opposite. 

In fact, I refuse to drive after even one drink, because I’m convinced I’m sloshed. It’s just safer for all involved if I drink on my couch, in my sweats.

As the presentation was starting, I had no other option. I glugged it down, and we made our way to the auditorium. 

Upon entering, we realized it was the wrong side, as our school peeps were saving seats on the opposite side of the room. 

We turned  around to exit, and that’s when it happened…

You know those moments that are so momentous, in a good or bad way, that time seems to stand still, and when you do move, it’s in super slow motion? 

Well, I had a lot of time to think on the way down. 

There was one more step. I didn’t step up. 

Shit. 

Is this really happening? Is this real life? 

Can I play it off? 

Can I save myself? 

Nope.

Maybe this isn’t really happening?

No. It is. 

Thar she blows! 

That’s all folks! 

No! This isn’t funny! Why the fuck me? 

I’m not the kind to fall, I’m more coordinated than that. 

I’m fat, but I’m light on my feet, like a dancer, but in a spastic way.  

Really?! Is this really happening?

Fuck. 

SMACK. 

Not only did I fall in front of an auditorium full of people-fellow educators, when I made contact, the clipboard I was holding smacked the ground, making a God-awful “WHACK”. The sound it made, as I smacked the hard concrete, reverberated off of every available surface. 

Just in case someone was not paying attention to the prelude to my long and epic fall, that damn deceptive clipboard made sure as hell they saw the grand finale. 

It’s possible that there was still, maybe, one person who didn’t witness my moves, but my teacher friend made sure it was a right spectacle with her, “OMG! YOU FELL!” (no fuck), and… her snorting. 

I am never taking advantage of free wine again. Ever. 

During the entire presentation, I was sweating profusely and praying that everyone thought it was my friend, who was wearing almost the identical sweater, who made the grand entrance, and not me. 


source

Author: fattymccupcakes

Just a thirty-something girl trying to love herself the way she is: fat, rolls, cellulite, and fabulousness.

64 thoughts on “Why Wine is Not My Friend”

  1. Your colleague’s, “OMG! YOU FELL!” feels like it would happen in a cartoon, but it would be satirical because WHY why would you shout that at someone who has 1) clearly just fallen 2) you haven’t checked was okay 3) who probably wants everyone to just play down the situation. Then you can pretend it was a graceful fall…like you just floated to the ground…

    I say keep drinking the free wine! Maybe you lost the battle, but not the war damn it.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. LOL!! Yes! I just lost the battle, not the war πŸ˜‚πŸ˜­πŸ‘ Unfortunately, I would likely respond like my colleague. I’m so horrible in embarrassing situations. But, yes had she not yelled the obvious, I maybe could have played it off like I meant it to maybe 2 people! Lol.

      Like

  2. I’m gonna sound like such an asshole, but I’m laughing so hard right now! This is an epic story…and you’re so funny!

    The bad thing is that I CAN relate to being a total lightweight – how can I be fat and a lightweight; I still haven’t made sense of that – AND to public humiliation. And yet, here I sit, still laughing!

    I feel terrible that you suffered an embarrassment. I really do. I’m the type that never forgets those things, so I hope you aren’t. Cuz then it just keeps on sucking. Forever.

    But thank you…for sharing. I needed the laugh…. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You are totally excused. Laugh away!! When I embarrass myself (which is practically daily), I have to laugh or I’ll be depressed at how inept I am! I still haven’t figured out how I can be fat and a lightweight either! It’s so weird!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Ouch – I like it how people in these circumstances point out the damn obvious – “You fell”
    I hate to say it though, I did laugh… at your expense, it’s the wonderful way in which you write about your little adventures. But I would suggest that you keep off the wine.
    BTW – were you unhurt? No cuts? Your face didn’t swell up so you looked like an alien from Star Trek?

    Liked by 1 person

  4. OMG, I am snorting all over my oatmeal. Wine is also not my friend – how many times has my psychiatrist told me that it doesn’t mix with anxiety and medication? AND I worked professionally in mental health! I can beat you hands down for embarrassing ‘can’t handle her drink’ stories but most are too cringe-worthy. One time when visiting the old country, my friend’s husband had to put me to bed…I was in my 40s then so I guess I will never learn. On the plus side, most people would not have assumed you fell because you were sloshed. πŸ™‚ Clumsiness beats drinking problem any day. Still laughing…

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Actually? The wine probably SAVED YOUR LIFE. Because you were all relaxed when the ground jumped up to give you your own personal surprise party. Had you had all your wits about you, you’d have stiffened up and broken your cranium. WINE SAVES. YAY WINE.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Bwahahaha! Your posts are so damn funny!
    Mostly because I am a total lightweight and can totally imagine myself doing this!! If you do decide to move to the UK you might end up learning to drink a teeny bit more. Just so you can be involved in the culture of rounds.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Ouch.

    It’s the concrete. This is payback for all the feet walking all over it each and every day – especially the females in their hard, pointy heels. You just ended up on the wrong end of a vengeful patch of manufactured stone.

    Don’t blame the wine.

    OTOH – I was an alcoholic lightweight before ketosis…a single serving of any adult beverages would leave me flying. Now, with no glucose in my system to pad the boozy blow, I’m SUPER lightweight. I can catch a buzz from walking past a liquor store.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Falling UP the stairs is horrible. I do that frequently and I’m a young-ish, athletic, male. Somehow my foot will hit the front part of the step instead landing ON the step. Then I slip and fall forward. And that’s totally sober.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I don’t need wine to fall as I have already shared and still having physical therapy. I don’t drink anymore at all with all my meds. I loved your dog picture. That was funny.

    Like

  10. Tonight, I am drinking vodka in cherry Kool-aid. Sitting on an exercise ball. In front of my computer. With “The Duff” queued up on a streaming movie site.

    Aaaaaand suddenly your life looks so much better. You’re welcome.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Update: (grrrrooooooaan) Never again, vodka, never again. (nurses strongest coffee known to man and seriously considers not showering at all today, too noisy)

        PS: Rum, we’re still friends, right?

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I know, how weird is that? I never noticed a difference in The Fun Toxins before but over the years, certain ones have revealed the violence in their hearts.

        I used to be a Bailey’s girl (and other sugar-packed buzzes) in college but it rapidly morphed into sophisticated (and slower) scotch-sipping in my 30s. In my 40s, only a few clear, non-grain alcohols could make it through my gastrointestinal system without wrecking the hotel room. And keep that wine the hell away from me!

        Today, I’m down to silver rum, which I can practically drown in with almost zero consequences, which is weird because on keto, your tolerance plummets and you become the cheapest date on the planet.

        (sigh) Why couldn’t my superpower be something cool like hair that doesn’t curl in humidity?

        Liked by 1 person

      3. You’re the second person in the last couple of days who has told me that with keto you are a total lightweight. I think it’s just safer for everyone if I kept the glucose in my system!

        Like

      4. That’s savings that could bring you one step closer to a disappointing condo experience. Just kidding. I hate condos.

        Final report:

        3 industrial strength coffees
        1 gallon water, taken internally
        2-egg, 4-bacon scramble
        2 Advil (I caved)
        No shower

        Winning.

        Liked by 1 person

  11. Omg… I feel your pain.

    I am NOT a graceful person when I fall. I’m fat af, too. And you know the saying… the bigger you are, the harder you fall. πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚ Let’s not even talk about the fact that I cry and laugh at the same time because I’ve shredded every part of my hands, knees and dignity in the fall of the century.

    But hey, at least the wine and food was free. That helps take some of the sting away, right? xoxo

    Liked by 1 person

      1. My last fall was the result of a broken wooden kitchen chair I had been using as a desk chair. I cried hard for days. The bruise on my ass looked like a sea turtle and I had two huge gashes going up my back from the back of the chair taking me along with it. Lmao… and yet, not lmao…

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Oh shit, girl! I get how that was probably funny, but at the same time not funny all! Speaking of wooden chairs-I was out to dinner last night at a pub-like restaurant. The wooden chair I was sitting in was shady as hell. It swayed and creaked so bad! It’s crazy that I was terrified of breaking a chair in the middle of a restaurant, but at the same time I kinda sorta wanted it to happen, because it’d be great for my blog. I need help!!

        Liked by 1 person

  12. I’m not a lightweight but when I pass that line of having too much. Every electronic that can get me to social media needs to shut down. I embarrassed myself as recently as 48 hrs ago. Ill message you the story. I’m sorry you fell. That is horrible, especially since it was in front of everyone.

    Liked by 1 person

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    Liked by 1 person

  14. This reminds me of the time my husband fell down stairs in an auditorium. He was at a work event and in a suit. He was in so much pain by the time he got home (flew home) that I took him to the hospital. He cracked a couple of ribs with that incident.

    Liked by 1 person

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