Loving someone should be like walking into the front door of
a party and playfully tossing a bottle of red wine to the host.
I mean that it’s a gift, you give it away. Don’t always
expect to share in the drinking: your host might be an alcoholic and down the
whole lot and look to you in a drunk stupor foolishly asking for more when they
were too hasty to enjoy the first lot anyway. Or maybe your host is too dim
witted to even see it coming, maybe they misunderstood the little upward jerk
of your eyebrows that said “Ready?” when you tossed the bottle and it smashed
on the floor in a million little pieces and made a big red hard-to-scrub-out
stain on the carpet, in the foyer, for everyone to see.
It’s up to you to make friends with people who aren’t that
slow and aren’t that greedy. Hopefully you befriend someone who has two wine
glasses in their cupboard, or mugs or bowls, or any vessel that could contain a fluid, or if not doesn’t mind passing the bottle between you.
Maybe you’re connoisseurs at this and swill and sniffle at the fumes and talk
about different ‘notes’ and vineyards, but it’s more likely that the reason you’re
there is because you both just enjoy the company.
For the meantime I don’t drink.
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