I’ve downed a couple glasses of the wine and the pasta comes out - it’s delicious. But fuck I think to myself how do I portion this wine to food out so I don’t die at the table x nonetheless the more wine I drink the more confident my shit house Italian gets. I somehow portion the wine to pasta and with my new token confidence I say scusi to the wholesome scuffling gentlemen and order the dolci della casa. Tiramisu, pana cota he recited - I say tiramisu I’m pretty fucked up at this point but I swear to god that was the best damn tiramisu was the bet I’ve ever had I scoff it down and grazie Mille all the waiters

