Ok - the Wine Expo rolls into Boston this weekend.
You know what that means....
About 50,000 slam-drunk suburbanites stumbling through the streets of Bahstin!
I know because I used to work at a restaurant right by the Expo. One time a very polite drunk came up to me, requested a table and when I turned back to seat him, he had literally fallen straight down into his shoes - like a melted wicked witch, leaving behind his jacket in a puddle on the floor.
It's a fact, people go to the Wine show, get sh*t faced, then weave their way towards food in the vain, vain, vain hope of sobering up for the drive home via a massive dose of fried food.
This rarely has the desired result.
The reality is:
large amounts of alcohol
+
large amounts of grease
=
an urgent and raging need to poop.
And anyway, no one ever admits to getting sh*ttoed at a Wine Expo.
It's like admitting you enjoy a little glass of Manischewitz.
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