She’s perfect for ninety minutes.
First glass: she’s warm, charming, the woman who captured my heart.
Second glass: still funny, dancing in the kitchen.
Third glass: everything’s my fault. Fourth glass: she’s crying. Fifth glass: sloppy drunk.
I tell myself it’s menopause, she’ll come around soon.
Then open another bottle.
Paul D’Arcy tells stories. All real. Most brief. You can read more at pauldrc.com.
You sound like people that ruin Ryanair flights.
Turn up the volume. It gets better!
You sound like every horrific ‘Hollywood’ starlet that thinks they deserve a prize for their paychecks.