Monday, January 6, 2014Good morning crew,
Well, I had a pretty uneventful New Year's Eve except for one odd incident.
A small group of us started out at one of the casinos in Indiana so we could dress up in suits and look like James Bond while smoking cigars and playing chemin de fer (I was playing stud poker, actually, but baccarat was Bond's game of choice).
I had a few exciting moments at the tables, but the odd incident I am talking about happened much later, when we met a larger group of friends and acquaintances for dinner and drinks at a restaurant.
As we were standing around the bar having an aperitif a guy I know sidled up to me and said, "Hey Joe, I have something for you to try."
Now, I know this fellow well enough to know about his eccentric tastes, but I have never known him to me malicious, so when he pulled a water bottle filled with clear liquid from his coat pocket and handed it to me perhaps I was not suspicious enough.
Shrugging my shoulders I threw the bottle back and took a generous swallow, whereupon my chest was immediately seized by a fierce burning sensation and I was wracked by a prolonged fit of coughing.
"What," I finally gasped, "in God's name was that?"
He gave me a toothy grin and said, "Moonshine. I made it in my basement. In a bucket. Are you alright? Maybe you shouldn't have taken such a big swig."
In my career I have consumed everything from that tequila with a worm in it to absinthe, but never have I felt a kick like that.
In fact, a half hour later everything started to take on a distinct sepia tone and I had trouble feeling my tongue.
I found the wife who was engaged in a gay and animated conversation with her friends and grabbed her by the elbow.
"Maybe we'shoo go home," I breathed at her face from about two inches.
"Oh, don't be such a baby," she chided me. "It's only 10:30. You can stick it out. Sit down and have some water."
So in several of the pictures from that night I can be seen in the background, sitting by myself, looking a little flushed and cross-eyed and trying to keep my head up.
I did make it to midnight, but it was a close thing. So much for being responsible.
Laugh it up,
Joe
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