Well, it's Saturday...

and there's another 'festival' in our family. It's a birthday I think. Same people ( a group of about twenty, if cousins don't show up). Same food (rice, beans and 'birria'( and probably some kind of salad for the rabbits among us).

Everyone is supposed to bring their own drinks but this can get tricky. They all say, 'we'll just bring a big bottle of 'Coke'', that's all we want. So, when a serious drinker shows up with what he thinks is his personel stash, he has to watch out for 'label readers'.

A label reader is the guy who claims to be a non-drinker but, suddenly, he is fascinated by what ever it is that you've brought to drink.

"What is that?" It starts.
"It's brandy."
"What brand?"
This answer is irrelevent because there is no brand name that will deter a label reader.
"Can I read the label, I'm not familiar with that brand?"
Reluctantly, you hear yourself say "sure".
"Hmmm, looks good. Nice fragrance too."
And here it comes.
"Mind if I take a drink?"
Nooo! Your mind screams but you hear your mouth mumble "okay".

Fucking label readers! Once you let them in you're stuck with them the rest of the day.

"Man, that's really good! Tell you what, since I've drunk so much of your bottle I'll bring a bottle of the same next time."

"Okay." you hear yourself supporting the lie.

I've got my stuff pretty well hidden but, the fucking label reader is a cunning animal. One is never safe.

I'll write more after the party.

QUOTE OF THE DAY:

Beer: Helping ugly people have sex since 3000 BC! W.C. Fields