Yesterday Was Uneventful

By the time I got home from work, I fed the fish and found myself in in a conundrum. There I was in the kitchen, fighting -quite literally, fighting- with the wine bottle, thinking that God had made shitty hotel-style corkscrews solely for the purpose of punishing me. There is nothing quite as eloquent as putting the bottle on the floor between my feet, and hauling on the cork, hoping the  bottle opens, but praying it doesn’t open so quickly that I get a self-inflicted black eye.

I did not punch myself in the face, and I discovered that friends who own restaurants are the people to ask for wine recommendations.

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