Skillz

I might have great hand-to-hand skills and could probably beat you up with my baby finger (ooook, I’ve had a lot of Red Bull today y’all, and I am entertaining but NOT sane) but there’s one thing I don’t have that makes me very dangerous: knife skills. That’s right – I suck at doing stuff with knives. I suck at chopping stuff, it takes me forever to make a stupid veggie tray or pico (hence the need for a chopper, see below!) and I’m pretty sure that when I was little I sliced my hand open with a butter knife. Me + blades = not a happy fit. So my latest fail came on Thursday night when Dale and I decided to make pizza and watch So You Think You Can Dance, which, YAY!! And what goes better with pizza and SYTYCD than VINO?

I’ve been spoiled lately by my plethora of bottles with silly/provocative names (“Menage a Tois,” “Joe Blow,” “Promis-Q-is,” etc.) but I’ve been opening bottles and then never finishing them so I decided I’d get a box (shut up) and just sip off of that so I don’t feel obligated to down an entire bottle in less than three days just because I wanted a glass of wine with dinner. The wine gods hate this, apparently, and thus engineered my greatest FAIL of the week. This is where the knife skillz come in. BRILLIANTLY, I decided that I was going to open the box with a knife because – IDK – apparently my nails are too weak to break the perforated lines in the cardboard box, when suddenly I noticed that there was wine dripping from the box. Not through the nozzle, though, through the neat little hole that I’d just cut in the plastic bag. Because duh. You don’t open a box containing delicate plastic with a kitchen knife. Everyone knows that. You especially know it if your full time job not that long ago involved opening large shipments of boxes tightly packed with wedding gowns. Blerg.

So damage control ensued, D tried to patch it up with some tape but we didn’t have anything stronger than good ol’ Scotch tape, so we crossed our fingers and…it worked! I got my glass, watched my (awesome) show, and then when I went back to the kitchen: MORE FAIL! Apparently Scotch tape doesn’t work well as a dam, and there was now Franzia “Chillable Red” leaking out of the (disintegrating) bag, across the counter, down the front of the dishwasher, onto the floor, and steadily forging a path from the dishwasher to the oven. Crap! At this point there’s nothing to do but drink five liters of wine before the entire bag goes bad. Oh fine, I’m kidding, five liters of marginally ok wine is WAY too much, even for me. No, I somehow ghetto rigged it in the sink to where the corner with the hole was up in the air and it wasn’t leaking anymore. Then Friday we took it over to Ben’s house (cleverly double-wrapped in a ginormous Ziploc bag and carried in a Corningware dish) and told our friends to have at it. Unfortunately, marginally ok wine is made much worse when unrefrigerated so our valiant attempt to consume the entire remnants of the box was unsuccessful (it’s hard to drink that crap when there’s good wine plus really good beer around), so among all of TToA we still ended up throwing away a good two liters of boxed wine. Maybe that is the most epic fail of them all.

So the moral of the story is don’t give Mere a knife. I suck at knives. But I’m pretty good with a bow staff.

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