Whiskey Wednesday

Excuse Me, But I’ll Be Handling The Gentleman’s Discourse For The Rest Of The Evening

BY A 750-MILLILITER BOTTLE OF WHISKEY

Ah, pardon me, milady. May I have a word? I trust you’re enjoying tonight’s festivities? I should say I am. Nothing stirs the blood quite like an evening of dancing, conversing, and libations, wouldn’t you say? My apologies for the confusion; while I’m aware that you have been speaking with the gentleman here, I should let you know that, as he has now imbibed a considerable proportion of my contents, the conversational duties will henceforth fall to yours truly.

I think we’ve heard quite enough from him by now, anyhow.

I should clarify: You began a conversation with a somewhat charming and erudite man, and now you shall be interacting solely with me, the substance contained within an ordinary bottle of whiskey. The shift is slightly jarring, I’ll admit, and perhaps even unsettling. Nevertheless, let me assure you that this is as he intended. By consuming nearly half my contents, he elected to have me act as his proxy in all manner of interpersonal communications.

You’ll be getting to know me quite well over the next three hours, or at least until I take over his body in toto and pass out in the nearest chair, whichever comes first. If you care to listen, I believe you’ll find many of my anecdotes and opinions fascinating. For example, were you aware that it took him nearly half an hour to drive himself here because the Chinaman in front of him never learned to read a damned speedometer?

Now, now, please—calm yourself. Before you jump to conclusions, know that I am not being deliberately racist. No, that’s just the sort of unfiltered “from the hip”—if I can use the vernacular—statements you can expect for the rest of the night. I’ll be unearthing many facets of his personality of which he himself was previously unaware, as represented by the aforementioned racially charged remark, a few half-baked political notions, and a long, rambling explanation of why his former romantic partner was so wrong to abandon him despite the fact that he dedicated nearly three years of his life to her and who in the hell was she to imply that he was incapable of loving anyone but himself?

This reminds me, I have also been tasked with undertaking all possible romantic endeavors tonight. Most likely this will occur in the form of an awkward pass; perhaps I’ll lean in to brush your hair out of your face but inadvertently poke you in the eye, because I will have control of his motor functions as well.

Have I mentioned that you have great tits?

My apologies, that was merely an observation intended as a compliment. I can see how it might be misinterpreted, but believe me, I had only the purest intentions at heart. In matters of beauty, I prefer to do away with formalities, and in point of fact, they are quite impressive as far as tits are concerned.

I say, is that Van Halen I hear? Ah, splendid. Permit me to scream “Hell, yeah! Turn that shit up, goddamn it!” Also, if you would be so kind as to indulge me in this opportunity to pantomime playing multiple instruments. I am infrequently afforded a setting in which to clumsily pretend I am performing before an audience I imagine to be appreciative, and I must say I do enjoy it so.

Panama! Whoo! Panama-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…Pana…. Fucking Panama!

Well now, I suppose at this point you should know that I am also assuming the duties ordinarily filtered by his sense of decorum and dignity. This will result in some spectacularly bad dancing, as well a fair amount of drooling. I may also stand over a bowl of chips and shovel them into my mouth with the same glassy-eyed stare one sometimes sees on a particularly unintelligent dog or cow. But fear not! If I should overstep some social convention, you may inform me in any way you see fit without fear of consequence, as my charge will have no recollection of it the next day.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ve been slighted by that gentleman who just bumped into me, and I feel that the only way to maintain my honor is to call him a fucking faggot and engage in fisticuffs. I’ve enjoyed this chat, and look forward to talking once again, assuming I don’t decide that I’m going to take over tonight’s driving duties as well.

(thank you the onion!!!!!!)