Let Them Eat Pie

Last night, a group of my friends gathered at my house for a quasi-impromptu "Wine and Cheese Party."  I raced from work, to the bank, then to the grocery store where I gathered the components for a happenin' party:  cheese, bread, crackers, more crackers, more bread and some more cheese.  Oh yeah, and I "accidentally" tossed in a frozen pecan pie and a carton of ice cream.  Slippery lil' buggers...

Another important point of the evening was to taste the wine that my bud, Stacey found for her pending nuptials while in Cincinnati over the weekend.  "You guys have to taste it and lemmie know what you think."  Everyone readies their glass and POP my sister stands over the wine bottle with a shocked expression on her face. 

"Itgotstuckandjustgotstuckanddoyouhaveanotherone?"  She is holding the wine opener in one hand while the cork screw end is protruding from the top of the wine bottle.

This, my dear readers, is what is defined as a "party foul." Please make a note... I'll wait...

After failed attempts to break into Harry's coveted Crafstman toolbox (a man's tool chest is worth more to him than his pinky) Summer comes back upstairs with a helpful instrument.  "It'saclamp.  Wecanclampitonandpullitout!" She's so proud.  I'm scared - but I'm eating pie and can't be bothered to help.  Plus, the amusing three stooges show is quite entertaining - so why should I stop it?

Ten minutes later, a screwdriver, a set of pliers (Stacey figured out how to "break into" Harry's tool box:  "I lifted the lid and used the key.") and a discarded clamp later - the cork was still intact.

Tiffany was now standing over it, hacking away at the cork with my $1.99 Pampered Chef paring knife.  I feared for her fingers.  And a bit for my knife.

Finally they get it open and much rejoicing was had by all - except me - I was still eatin' my pie.  After straining the cork bits out of the wine they all decided on one thing:  Not bad for an inexpensive bottle of wine that was bought by the crate and better be good or we were going to have to just wait and serve it at the end of the night when everyone was good and drunk and no one would notice.  Stacey was visibly relieved. 

As the evening wore on the conversation turned to - what else? - SEX.  We were all discussing the horrors of videotaping one's self having sex and how it would be a horrendous thing to do/watch/lose when one member of our group piped up.  She is the sweet one, the one who actually had enough willpower to "wait for marriage" and the one who's dear hubby travels MORE than mine. 

She sat up, looked us all in the eye and said: "I'd do it, I'd tape it, and I'd watch it, too!"

Dead silence while we processed this info and then burst out laughing in a collective sputter. 

And although I'm still finding bits of cork all over my kitchen, I wouldn't trade those memories (or that darn good pie) for the world!