On the last episode of Caffeine Court, I left you in the Trump Box at the U.S. Open, in a very tense moment.
There I was, sitting in the lap of luxury with my very generous friend and I can see that she is very, VERY annoyed at me.
I feel panic and confusion. I know I have to do something, ANYTHING to make things okay.
What do you think I do next?
A. Get really pissed off and pull a Serena. I threaten to shove a tennis ball down my friend's throat if she doesn't take a chill pill and allow my 8 guests to stay. She tells me I'm a low class, pushy broad and dumps a glass of Pinot Noir all over my cute white Anthropologie blouse. Security escorts us out of the stadium and into our waiting limo. Our friendship is over.
B. Pull Larry (Donald's right hand man) into the hall. Apologize profusely for inviting my friends to stop in without asking. He looks at me like I have two heads and insists that they stay and enjoy themselves. We all enjoy the rest of the night and bask in our good fortune.
C. Feel extremely uncomfortable and don't know what to do, so I go into the bar and do a few shots of Trump Brand Vodka. Next thing I know, I'm completely trashed. I start peeking my head around the broadcast booth to get a picture of John McEnroe. He gets annoyed and I'm told to keep away from the booth. I then decide our entire box needs to get on the JumboTron, so I start dancing around doing the "YMCA" and then flash my boobs at the camera. I spend the rest of the night on the bathroom floor puking.
If you've been reading this blog long enough, you know me well enough to guess the outcome.
So, tell me. What did I do? Do I need anger management counseling? Did I bow and scrape? Or should I head to an AA meeting?