First Posted: 6/10/2013

Over last summer, I was dating a handsome Italian restaurant owner. He was exotic, charming, and classy. He would look deeply into my eyes and say things in Italian that would just make me melt. Granted, I spoke no Italian, so for all I know he was saying that I had food stuck in my teeth or I was having a fat day, but in my mind he was showering me in sweet nothings. Life was like an “I can’t believe it’s not butter” commercial and he was my Fabio.

We had gone on a few dates before deciding to spend a whole day together at a local wine festival. After a few too many samples, I found myself dancing barefooted to the band and wearing a tiara made of flowers. He just laughed at my carefree, childish antics and said I was endearing. I don’t know what ingredients the final wine maker was using, but the last tasting gave me an uncontrollable case of the giggles. On the car ride home, I just thought everything was funny. I cracked myself up so many times that I am certain I should have (and possibly might have) peed my pants.

Upon arrival at my apartment, we decided to watch a movie and crack open another bottle of wine; we had bought so many different bottles at the festival that I told him to just grab any one so we could start the movie. He had mistakenly grabbed the bottle from the last sampling, the bottle of instant giggles.

Needless to say, we couldn’t make it through the movie without things quickly escalating. We had never hooked up before and after dating for a few weeks and drinking a healthy amount of wine all day long, it was time.

I still had the giggles, but tried my best to keep my serious bedroom face demeanor. The funny thing about wine is that different people could be drinking the same thing and have completely opposite reactions. For me, it was the giggles. For him, it was lack of stamina.

I didn’t realize things had even started when he alerted me to the fact they were already over. Under the influence of the giggle juice, I accidentally burst out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter and yelled “That was it?!” I then proceeded to laugh in his face to the point that tears were streaming down my face.

I knew it was wrong, but literally couldn’t stop it. The harder I tried to compose myself, the more I laughed. His ego was bruised and my continuous cackling didn’t help. He quickly gathered his things and ran out the door embarrassed. I continued to laugh.

I never saw him again after this incident. I know now to avoid the giggle wine before and during adult time and that perhaps some drinks are better suited for girls’ night out, not couple’s night in.