Good evening, mes amis. I will be your sommelier tonight. I have every confidence that we can work together to find just the right dish to complement the disgusting amounts of alcohol you have already consumed.


Now, I like to begin with every new patron by familiarizing them with what we have on offer here, in the middle of the street as you're stumbling home wasted and starving. Our house drunk food is a lovely falafel from the hole-in-the-wall around the corner from the bar. It's a real crowd-pleaser, a great bargain for what you're getting, everyone loves it.


But if you're looking for something a little more adventurous this evening, it's a fabulous year to unwrap a cheeseburger from the fast food chain you'd never consider entering sober. This meal pairs especially well with vodka shots, because the greasy heaviness of it will take that tiny amount of stomach bile you can feel rising up in your throat right now and just shove it right back down.


Another personal favorite of mine is the dollar pizza -- yes, yes, pizza is a bit of a cliche, I know -- but dollar pizza has a nice warm, dry wit to it, and it certainly won't set you back. It's a great everyday option, and goes wonderfully with skipping dinner to drink four pitchers of light beer with your coworkers while you all complain about your jobs.


Ahem, excuse me. Please wake up. You cannot sleep here.


As I was saying, the perfect selection all depends on what you've been drinking. I treat every drunk meal as a holistic experience.


Tequila shots followed by a loud argument with your significant other, who takes a cab home and leaves you to vomit on a street corner? Quesadilla from a food truck.


Margarita and gossiping with friends after a breakup? Might I recommend...your roommate's two-day-old leftover pasta salad, best enjoyed by picking at it with your fingers while hunched over your stove? [Kisses bunched-up fingers.] Perfecto.


Far too many whiskey sodas at a party where you see your ex make out with your freshman year roommate and you immediately down a bottle of an oaky '92 Chardonnay in the bathroom before texting "sup" to everyone you've ever slept with?


Hmmmmm. Let me think. This calls for something gentle. Something...unexpected.


French fries? No, that's far too gauche... AH. YES. Onion rings. Followed by...a pack of gummy worms purchased at a bodega on the walk home.


I am a true artist.