Scene: SF MoMA atrium, 7.15 p.m., exhibit opening/reception
Woman (to bartender): Hey, I know why you don't serve red wine. It's because you're afraid people will spill it, isn't it?
Bartender: No, we just don't serve it until 8. [No further explanation.]
Em (internally): No! I know why! It's because Dana tried to steal that bottle of red wine after that IFFCON event, and it ended up smashed and running all over the atrium floor. Surely the MoMA event people haven't forgotten that one.
...And that makes me think of our Deadpan days, and how I used to be able to summon the energy to go out and drink at least three nights a week, then get up at 5.30 in the morning to go to work. How? I have no idea. It actually amazes me now, that youthful vigor and liver strength. How did it manage to dissipate so completely in 5 years?