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December 14, 2007
Basically a Total Weenie
Yesterday we went to a party put on by Washington College's CV Starr Center (for the Study of the American Experience) and hosted by Adam Goodheart of recent oyster stew fame. The party was a jolly affair. We drank hot cider and nibbled on cheese and had animated conversations with several friends, old and new. As we were leaving, we noticed quite a ruckus on the front steps. Adam was instructing one of my fellow guests in the lost art of uncorking one's bottle of champagne using a saber.
Fascinated, I demanded an opportunity to try for myself.
So Adam removed the foil.
And demonstrated proper handling of the saber.
I assumed the position, and received my instructions. Proper technique dictates that one rub the blade edge of the saber up and down the neck of the bottle to agitate the contents and increase the pressure therein. Then, in one decisive downward thrust of the arm, the blade is driven into the lip of the bottle, causing the entire end of the bottle to dislodge itself, the cork still surrounded with a circle of glass. It is really quite dramatic. I was looking much forward to doing it myself.
And so I rubbed the blade up and down the neck of the bottle, waiting for the pressure to build. The crowd hummed with palpable excitement.
When I felt the time was right, I brought the blade down squarely on the lip of the bottle and...
...absolutely nothing happened. The blade glanced impotently off the end of the bottle and the crowd grew hushed. Undaunted, I tried again. The crowd grew excited again. I rubbed the blade up and down the neck. I waited for the moment to feel right. I brought the blade down and...
...to my horror, the blade glanced lamely off the bottle. The crowd was silent with pity.
My shame was thick and undeniable.
I tried again. This time the crowd was unwilling to place its hopes in my rapidly plummeting stock. I warmed up the bottle. I waited. I struck. I failed.
People covered their eyes and refused to acknowledge what they had just seen.
To make the humiliation complete, I tried and failed a fourth time.
I shrunk to approximately four inches high. I handed the bottle and saber over to another gentleman, who succeeded on his first try.
The crowd returned to full joviality and reveled in the spoils of my opponent's victory.
Dismally, I picked up the cork and ring of glass, a symbol of what might have been.
Adam tried to console me.
I was feeling a bit better until I learned that this young woman had also succeeded in sabering a bottle.
Apparently without even trying very hard.
My sense of self worth is at an all-time nadir. I need a good jumping competition to revitalize me. Or perhaps some duckpin bowling. This evening we head to Baltimore for the bowling baby shower of our friend Courtney, who is due in just two weeks.
There's nothing quite like bowling to restore a damaged ego.
Posted by bogenamp at December 14, 2007 01:44 PM