Further Proof I am Not an Adult

I know you're expecting Paris. I'll get it to you. I swear.

I just thought the blogosphere should know that it took me 30 minutes, an instructional website, a youtube video, and a unsuccessful attempt to call my mother for me to open a bottle of wine only to have it literally explode all over me.

I was feeling all excellent because for once I bought myself a bottle of wine here that:

a. cost more than 2 euros (3.99 people! 3.99! Luxury!)
b. was a brand that was not synonymous with the grocery store in which I was purchasing it.
c. was a deliberate purchase of a type of wine. A bordeaux. The best, obvs.

My roommate doesn't drink red wine, so this was basically a present to myself. I was so excited that I was practically emitting an evil-genius laugh while walking back from the store.

"HEHEHEHEhehehehehehehehe!"

I considered cradling it like a baby, but I restrained myself and shoved it in my backpack instead.

I know. Classy.

Anyway, so 7pm rolled around and I decided I could break it out. I ran across the hall to borrow a wine opener from my neighbors.

Strike one.

Then, I stared at the waiter-type opener cluelessly. I wisely decided the best option was to open it and screw it in, and then pull as hard as I damn well could.

That failed. Strike two.

I stared some more.

I then went to google and asked it how to open a wine bottle with a waiter opener. It gave me instructions which told me after closing down the two sides, my cork would magically pop out. I was skeptical, given my limited knowledge of physics.

That failed. Strike three.

Then I went to YouTube. I found a video, to which I had the response, "Oooohhhh....I see." I followed the proper procedure. Nothing. I tried and the lip kept slipping off. GAHH. More futile pulling. Profanity. Crazy twisting. More useless pulling and then...SNAP. Out came...half of my cork.

Crap. Next stop? MOMMMMMMM

No answer. She did e-mail me back seconds later, telling me to call her, but I was unaware. I was charging forward on my quest for wine, however blindly. I am the culinary version of a bull in a china shop.

It was back to google. This time: What to do when the cork breaks? I discovered my only real option was to push the sucker in. I tried to do it with my hands, and it got stuck in the neck. So I grabbed my expert tool, the end of a knife, and shoved.

PPHHSHEWWW!

My ceiling and front had wine splattered all across it. My dignity was shattered. I threw my shirt in the shower and sprayed it a bit.

Then, I took out my green plastic Ikea cup and poured myself some wine while serenading myself quite victory war-songs.

I don't care if I'm twenty. I am not an adult.