When someone invites me to Le Refuge des Fondues, I’m like…
It’s this place where they serve wine in baby bottles. I know it sounds really weird, but…okay, yeah, it’s pretty freaking weird.
After drinking wine out of a baby bottle all night, you feel pretty attached to it, you know, and want to take it with you, but, like everything à Paris, c’est très cher. What I should have done is stuck that bad boy in ma purse, but, being a woman of morals, I decided to coerce the waiter into giving me mine for free instead. Why do you think you can get free shit all the time? one might ask. Only because I always do! From drinks to cab rides to…more cab rides, I do an okay job of not paying for stuff. So obviously I make it out with a baby bottle in hand, and what’s my next move? Smash it. Yup, I preceded to drop my baby bottle, which was made of glass b-t-dubs (who knew?) in le métro, and it shattered EVERYWHERE. So much for not makin’ a scene…
Sewanee Girls!
As Blog is My Witness 