See, it started like this:
First, Belinda brought along this really cool Bavarian folk dancing DVD:
and while we were all grape vine jazz handing along to it, I thought to myself, "Dude! This is totally like all those folk dancing classes I taught at Girl Scout camp, but with less alligator hunting." And, because I noticed how good at it we all were, and because the quaint Bavarian town we were staying near didn't already have a dance troupe...
Then, another day, someone said something like, "Hey! We should dump the guys and kids at the lake for the afternoon while we go to a wine tasting!"
Me: In, like, a vineyard?
Them: Yes! It'll be fun!
Me: What do you wear to a wine tasting? Do I have to get all fancy and stuff?
Them: Just wear what you want, Martha!
|But it's a TURKEY! hat! And it SPARKLES!|
And then we left. Without the TURKEY! hat.
Because I know which fashion lines not to cross.
Then, we got to the winery and in my head I was all, "Wow! This place is really pretty! That view is just-OH MY GOODNESS! THOSE ARE THE MOST HUMONGOUS DOORS I HAVE EVER SEEN!"
So I took a picture.
To show the huge doors they didn't intimidate me.
Then, we all go in and the place is all fancy and I'm thinking to myself, "Man. I totally should have worn that TURKEY! hat. It was totally fancy enough for this place with all the sparkles!" But before I can lament about my lack of TURKEY! hat attire out loud, we're standing in front of a shiny reception desk and The Fancy Lady is handing each of us a list of wines and I'm distracted because I realize that I know nothing about wine, except sometimes it's white and sometimes it's red and sometimes it's pink. Or maybe that's champagne. Or a Michael Jackson song from 1991. Either way, their are words on this list that I don't even know how to pronounce! Well, crap-a-zoidal. I mean, if I was wearing the TURKEY! hat I'd be able to pull out my bumbling idiot routine and The Fancy Lady would think nothing of my halting falting pronounceableations, but I'm down a TURKEY! hat people! So, trying to be all nonchalant and stuff, I shuffle Belinda off to the side and have her give me a crash course in wine speak. Only, I can't say the words correctly, no matter how many times Belinda whispers them to me, and The Fancy Lady is almost done talking to Geraldine, who is saying all the fancy wine words absolutely perfectly, and soon it will be my turn and it would have all worked out perfectly if only I was wearing something stupid looking so I wouldn't embarrass myself trying to say all these weird words in this fancy place to The Fancy Lady! (insert internal scream of fear and awkwardness here)
So, I do the only thing I can think of. I turn to Belinda and whisper, "Ventriloquist." while doing the whole point to me point to her point to me point to her point to me point to her etc. thing while funneling all my social distress through the pin points of my eyes. And, because she's brilliant, this is how it went:
The Fancy Lady: (turning to me) And for you?
Me: -------- (but moving my lips, obviously)
Belinda: (with confidence) Riesling.
The Fancy Lady: (politely quizzically) And?
Me: -------- (still moving my lips)
Belinda: (with the same confidence) Syrah.
The Fancy Lady: Um. Thank... you....
And then The Fancy Lady went back to talking to Geraldine and Mabel, probably because she didn't want to intrude on our high five celebration of our newly formed Bavarian Folk Dancing and Wine Tasting Ventriloquist School.
Best! Idea! Ever! Guys!
Ooo! We should add a Pineapple Cotillion!
Where we all get to dress like pineapples!
Dudes! This is getting better and better!
You're still in right, Mabel?
*more awkward silence*
But, guys! I already have the glasses: