The folly of table service

Recently the Handbaggers were forced to abandon their usual bottle (or three) ritual down the local bar as all the tables were full (personally can't be arsed to stand and drink these days) and so we ventured further afield ... well 20m to be precise to a cocktail and wine bar.

Delight of delights not only did we secure ourselves a table we were also treated to complimentary table service. Unfortunately this turned out to be somewhat problematic ... there we were in mid grumbling when the first bottle of wine was sunk and no sooner were our glasses without than an attentive waitress hovered at my elbow to readily furnish us with another bottle. How marvellous.

Then the second bottle was sunk and we were only mid rant so we acquired a third, mid slur a magical fourth bottle appeared. After this point I lost count but the wine slowly increased whilst the Handbaggers decreased until there were only two of us left ... and yet my compadre kept yelling 'More wine' and foolishly I agreed;)

Then it became apparent that it was time to leave ... I thought I had had a drink but was not drunk but as I stood up I realised the error of my ways as I discovered that all coordination and function had left my body as I lurched off in the direction of my bus ... and the hour long journey home.

Now I realise that table service is a bad thing. The long stumble to the bar, the attempts (and random gestures) to make your requests understandable to the bar staff, the carrying of the wine bucket back to the table are all hurdles designed to ensure you are capable of imbibing more alcohol. If you can't manage these simple steps then its time to go home.