>be me
>get invited to brunch at Sandra Lee's house
>holy shit
>the Semi-Homemade lady herself
>expecting some nice little quiches, fruit salad, maybe a mimosa or two
>arrive at 10:30 AM
>Sandra greets me wearing a beautiful floral dress
>entire dining room looks like the Easter Bunny spent $40,000 at Michaels
>everything is coordinated
>tablecloth matches the napkins
>napkins match the curtains
>curtains match the cocktail glasses
>cocktail glasses are approximately the size of medieval siege equipment
>"Can I get you something to drink?"
>sure, a mimosa sounds nice
>"Oh, I have the PERFECT little recipe!"
>oh no
>watch her retrieve three bottles of vodka, peach schnapps, orange liqueur, and a suspiciously large container of triple sec
>"I like to put my own little spin on the traditional mimosa!"
>empties two entire bottles of champagne into a decorative punch bowl
>okay, reasonable for eight people
>adds a fifth of vodka
>oh
>adds a fifth of peach schnapps
>OH
>adds another fifth of vodka
>"Just a little extra for flavor!"
>SANDRA
>adds approximately 6 ounces of orange juice
>"And that's where we get our vitamin C!"
>this woman is attempting to kill a rhinoceros
>garnishes the punch bowl with one orange slice
>"Isn't that festive?"
>the alcohol concentration is approaching the legal maximum for a hazardous materials transport without placarding
>she pours me a glass
>it's 11 AM
>I've already been served the equivalent of six cocktails
>"Now I like to call these my Sunny Sunday Mimosas!"
>it's Saturday
>take one sip
>can feel my ancestors becoming intoxicated
>she takes a sip of her own
>"Mmmm! Delicious!"
>not even a wince
>absolutely terrifying
>sit down for brunch
>she brings out a breakfast casserole made with canned biscuits, frozen sausage patties, and pre-shredded cheese
>actually looks pretty good
>"And I've got a little surprise for dessert!"
>please be food
>she returns with a pitcher
>fuck
>"These are my famous Chocolate Strawberry Brunch Martinis!"
>oh sweet merciful Christ
>watch her combine vanilla vodka, chocolate vodka, strawberry vodka, Kahlúa, Irish cream, and two tablespoons of Hershey's syrup
>"And of course, a little whipped cream!"
>the whipped cream is the only ingredient that doesn't come with a Surgeon General's warning
>serves them in martini glasses that look like decorative birdbaths
>one of the guests asks if she has any coffee
>"Oh, absolutely! I make the most WONDERFUL coffee cocktails!"
>NO
>NO MORE COCKTAILS
>she produces a bottle of coffee liqueur
>another bottle of Irish cream
>and a bottle of brandy
>the coffee itself is apparently optional
>11:47 AM
>beginning to experience double vision
>Sandra is explaining how to make napkin rings out of recycled Christmas ornaments
>can't understand a word
>she hands me another drink
>"It's just a little something I whipped up!"
>the something is 80 proof
>look around table
>one guest is staring into the middle distance
>another is attempting to butter a decorative candle
>third guest has begun confessing to crimes
>Sandra remains completely coherent
>perfect posture
>perfect hair
>talking about centerpieces
>she has somehow consumed more liquor than the entire table combined
>not a single sign of impairment
>begin to suspect Sandra Lee is not actually human
>she is a biological ethanol processing facility wearing a cardigan
>12:15 PM
>Sandra announces it's time for her special brunch punch
>the other guests begin openly weeping
>"This one's really light and refreshing!"
>she retrieves a gallon of rum
>my final conscious memory is Sandra saying "Now don't worry, we're just going to add a splash of pineapple juice!"
***
>wake up
>it's 8:30 PM
>I'm in my own bed
>wearing someone else's pants
>there's glitter in my hair
>my phone has 37 unread messages
>apparently I went to Target
>bought $280 worth of decorative wicker baskets
>called my ex-wife
>don't have an ex-wife
>somehow acquired one during the blackout
>there's a photograph of me standing next to a police horse
>horse looks more intoxicated than I do
>check messages
>text from Sandra
>"Had SUCH a lovely time today! So glad you enjoyed brunch! 💕"
>attached photo
>entire table smiling
>I'm unconscious in the background
>Sandra is holding another pitcher
>another message arrives
>"We're doing a little Thanksgiving luncheon next month! Hope you can make it!"
>block number
>delete contact
>move to another state
>three weeks later receive a handwritten invitation in the mail
>somehow she found me
>the envelope smells like peach schnapps
>Sandra Lee does not host brunch
>Sandra Lee hosts a medically supervised disappearance of six to eight hours
>the food is merely there to establish probable cause for calling it brunch
>mfw the only thing semi-homemade at her house is the moonshine
