i drink, like, it's my job

Back at home now, and working for my mom's catering business, for I have no disposable income to speak of, much less dispose of. So, I'm here to make some money and help mom. Obviously she knows me well enough to know I'm an idiot, and assigns me tasks accordingly. No real cooking or office work of import for me. Some of my jobs have included taking her dog for walks, counting liquor bottles, and buying ice. Pretty boring shizzle for shizzle, but then came yesterday's activity: wine tasting.

My job was to taste all of the uncorked wine in the joint and determine which of the bottles had gone bad. Ten o'clock in the morn and I'm here tasting wine, and over fifty bottles of that biz. Sounds bitchin', but on the real, it was terrible. At least 30 of the bottles were disgusting, like maybe you think you don't have a palate sophisticated enough for such an excercise, but no, this crap tasted like arss. And then half way through I'm drunk to boot--because if you're gonna taste you might as well drink up. Waste not, want not and all that jazzamatazz.

So there I am, trying to spit the awful taste out my mouf, knocking over bottles, and yelling "ohh sweet jebus, that one tastes like pickles! ughhhhh. someone get some friggin water." The other employees were half laughing at me, half giving me weird looks and telling me I wasn't driving anywhere today. By the end I really felt like I was fixin to scream at my shoes, as dan, dropping it like it's hot, would articulate the pathos of such a situation. And that's really all I achieved that day, for serious.