#95. Open a champagne bottle and let it explode.
When I added this item to my list, I imagined opening a bottle with some friends and letting it explode, just for fun or maybe to celebrate something. That's not exactly what happened.
I've been working really hard on a project at work with tight deadlines. Yesterday I had a deliverable and at 7:00 was still in the office trying to get it finished and delivered. My office usually has several beers in the refrigerator and occasionally some wine for when we're especially stressed.
After PDFing files for 2 hours, and then having my computer suddenly decide Adobe wasn't installed anymore, I decided to search the kitchen for a drink and found a bottle of pink Prosecco. Success!
Last week I bought a mini bottle of champagne to celebrate another deadline and this weekend we had champagne at our wedding shower. Why do I mention these? Because I managed to open 3.5 bottles with little to no spillage. Just as I've opened several bottles in the past with little to no spillage. Until yesterday.
I followed the instructions I know, popped the cork – still don't know where that went – and champagne exploded all over the kitchen and me. It was all over my (cashmere) sweater, in my hair, and even in my ears. There was about 3 inches of it left in the bottle which I promptly poured in my glass and gulped while I cleaned up my mess.
The only other people in the office at the time were the cleaning ladies and two of my co-workers. I walked back to my desk to continue working like nothing had happened. Except, of course, for the fact that I appeared to be leaking champagne.
My officemate returned from dinner shortly after this, saw me covered in champagne, and exclaimed, "What in the hell happened here?" I guess it's not every day you walk into your office and see your normally conscientious coworker coated in alcohol. At least not on a Wednesday.
As I continued working I continued getting more and more sticky. My officemate offered me a tshirt he had at his desk so I changed into that for the metro ride home. It was an extra large, bright yellow, "Four Loko" tshirt, by the way. I made everyone in the office promise that if I was in an accident that they would publicly declare that I'm normally a fairly nice dresser.
Now I will cross this off my list, with a fat marker and a star, because I never need to experience this again.