Everything seemed great until I received the following email from our host:
Going to the store Friday. Any special requests? I have tequila,wine and absinthe.
Mind you, our host is the famous Buddy, the man who sobers up with Jager Bombs and once ran up a $180 tab in less than an hour at the Eighteenth Amendment. (Considering that I, a Duchess in the Court of Prodigious Bar Tabs, have always maxed at $35, this is quite a feat.)
So, sure, Buddy, I have some special requests. I'd like Gatorade, a pallet of painkillers, an enormous trash can to heave into, and maybe one industrial-size preemptive hug.
See you next week...if I survive.