Friday, December 02, 2005

The Perils of Boxed Wine

I worked at a small charming WholeFood Market in Houston in December of 2002 after being unemployed for one year. Almost to day! At this point, I'd already gotten to know a handful of people who worked at the store and been hanging out with them for several months. So I decided, why not work there.

Around the same time all twenty something year olds start to get the same thought. What am I doing for New Years Eve? Well... that year, I solved that problem. I decided to throw a party.

If there's one thing I miss about my WholeFoods crew is they knew how to have a good time. Keg+2 DJs+50 raucous people = Good time... Period. Newton proved in the 1600s.

The night started of pretty uneventfully... around 10:30 a fair amount of people started showing up. Everyone eager to get the night started with a bang. Unfortunately, that also seemed to mean bringing me a bottle of alcohol as well. I had a half empty bottle of Captain MorganĀ® Parrot Bay coconut rum sitting in my bar a year later.

Then walked in Bode. Let me tell you a bit about John. Bode's a 6'2" lanky red haired 21 y/o who loved to cook, skate and chill. Despite his propensity for chilling, he knew when and how to party. He hailed from East Texas and knew people that christened the Shampoo Stick (another story for another time.) Every time I'd see Bode he'd tell me something about a new trick he's working on or how he eat some concrete pretty hard last week. Now I'm not much of skater, but we both love Metal and would enjoy Playstation sessions backdropped by Seplutura, Slayer and Clutch.

So in walks Bode with a five liter box of wine greedily clutched in his paw. "What's going on Bode?" ... Without missing a beat, he turns to the room, raises high his box of wine and with militant gusto screams "We're gonna get drunk tonight!" Everyone responded with agreement and the party was on!

This wine was no ordinary wine. Boxes and wine were really two separate things back in ancient Rome. Believe me, I've been there. This alchemical creation of boxes and wine is of the unholy kind. And this particular box of wine was the unholiest of the unholy. It poured a vibrant hot pink color. Not slightly pink like "Oh, his shirt's kind of gay." No. It was totally flaming. It's that color pink that cute punk girl dyed her hair when you were in high school. It's the color pink that could only drape a broken man dressed in an elephant costume designed to entertain small, incoherent children. This pink was toxic. It burned my eyes and soul.

Being the host of the party, I let Bode go on his way and I attended to other party needs like tapping the keg, getting a drink or two for the DJ and ritualistically burning a piece of art for the sanity of an artist. All in all, a rather tame party. By one thirty most people were rather toasted. And all them were being graciously entertained by none other than Bode.

John was clumsily propped on the banister leading everyone in song and revelry when I happened to first catch a glimpse. Happily performing I didn't bother him. "Mitesh! MITESH!!!!!!"... "John... Loved the song!" ... "Mitesh... Let me ... let me show you how much I've drunk!" At this point I noticed that the box of wine suspiciously lacked a box. This is how evil boxed wine is! All he held was an almost empty plastic bag with a spout in one corner. "Look!"... He had definitely an entire bag of wine not through any conventional means. You know, pouring it into a drinking container like a cup or mug. Rather he suspended it high about his head, face turned up, mouth gaping wide. Then he turned the knob on the spout which poured volumes of pink liquid. "There's another bag in your freezer!" At this point I was happy to know he only drank 2.5 liters. Five is right out.

If I know anything about John is that he's a champ. I've only seen him throw up once and it wasn't that night. He continued to enjoy the party as Tommy and Veronica helped him in his festive ways. I don't know when John left. But a few days later, playing some dominoes with Tommy and Wayne that second bag of evil wine showed up.

Lessoned learned... Never, ever drink boxed wine.

Peace out!

"And the Lord spake, saying, "First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin. Then shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who, being naughty in my sight, shall snuff it. "

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