In which I and other people spill things

A few months ago I had a pretty special night of dinner at The Landau* with The Boyfriend, our mutual friend who sort of introduced us (and was also one of the guilty parties in that unfortunate incident in Spain) and her parents, who were visiting from Brisbane. We had an amazing five courses along with a great deal of excellent wine.

We were presented with a welcome complimentary champagne when we sat down at the table. Unfortunately my stand out memory of the evening is alarmed waiters discreetly rushing over when my neighbour knocked her almost-full glass of champagne on to my lap. Even though I was, for once, not responsible for the spillage I felt bad about the way that the beautiful and probably heritage flute shattered on the floor. Luckily, the next course arrived to distract us with its deliciousness and the staff were left to (probably) grumble amongst themselves about those uncouth Australians who didn't order the set menu.

I then had to attend the dreaded work Christmas lunch a few weeks ago and was again plagued by falling glassware. Longtime readers will know I have not found many boon companions at my workplace and I only went along to the lunch this year because I wasn't quick enough to think of an excuse not to attend when I was asked directly whether I was coming. It's a bit hard to have convenient "other plans" when the lunch is held on a weekday, i.e. when I should be at work.

So first, the flustered waitress managed to spill half a bottle of red wine on the table as she was attempting to pour a glass for my neighbour. Because her clumsiness was accompanied by yelps of horror from the few onlookers, everyone who wasn't already looking turned to see what was happening, and it was then that I involuntarily held out my hand to help her... and somehow made it look as though I had spilled the wine. Silently accepting the blame seemed more graceful than loudly proclaiming that I didn't do it.

And then later in the meal, in a rare moment of animation while talking to my colleagues, I really did spill my own glass of wine. And then I slipped on some water while trying to clamber out of my seat (the pokey restaurant was so full we were placed on one side of a long table so that everytime someone needed to get up, everyone else had to slide out first). So I looked like a complete lush and/or klutz, which made my restraint with respect to actually drinking the wine that day completely pointless. Given that performance, and especially considering I'd resigned by this point, I may as well have gotten wasted and gone out in flames.

*Websites with annoying flash intros and music are second only to pop-up advertising as one of the scourges of the internet. The difference is that pop-ups are almost intentionally annoying - as long as they get your attention, their job is done. Lengthy flash intros, especially ones that don't give you the opportunity to skip them, are obviously supposed to be impressive - but really they're just a big waste of your web design dollars. Says me.