The Sangria Police

The Sangria Police

Does a fellow party-goer have the right to limit the alcohol consumption of a total stranger at an open bar? I think not.

A friend of a friend recently had his 40th birthday in a fricking cool theater in Seattle. He rented the theater, provided the booze, and everybody brought food for the potluck. Fortunately, many of the guests were from Mexico, so it is safe to say that the food absolutely rocked the house. The booze and music weren't bad either.

Three hours into the night I was into my third glass of Sangria when the Sangria Police came to arrest me and tried to take my "drinking license away."

"Take it easy."

"What?"

I said, "Take it easy. Leave some for the rest of us."

Not without reason, I got a little pissed (and by pissed I do not mean the UK version as in drunk, but the Americanized "pissed" as in aggravated).  I couldn't help it- my face turned into a  sneer.

"Would you like me to pour some back?"

"Up to you." His face puckered up into pure disdain for me.

I poured approximately one-tenth of my glass of sangria back into the large pot (that still had enough for more than ten or twelve glasses left) and went to complain to my friends. Seriously, WTF? No one complained about the people standing by the only keg shoveling cup after cup down their throat, and no one complained that the expensive tequila was getting drunk because this was a party.

And three glasses was not a lot. I was not the only Sangria drinker at the party, just the only one to get busted for my "gluttonous" consumption.

In the same manner, I noticed that some people were eating more than their fair share of the considerably better tasting food. Would that give me the right to be the Glutton Police? "Excuse me, ma'am, you have eaten two helpings of the Mole, when I had only had one." WTF? Somehow, I don't think this would go over that well.

I asked the birthday boy his opinion on the manner. Being a few shots into the tequila, he didn't exactly know how to respond to me, but also didn't seem to have a problem with it.

I would like to know if I was the jackass for drinking three glasses of sangria at a party or if the policia should have had his ass kicked. And, by ass-kicking, I mean an ass-kicking with words and not violence, which I don't support. Or  was I the jack-ass for drinking my way through the sangria to begin with? Somehow, I don't think so.