The Great Lube vs. Wine Mix-Up
It all started with Vince’s terrible habit of multitasking. He prided himself on being a “master of efficiency,” but everyone else just saw it as a disaster waiting to happen. His latest challenge? Planning a romantic anniversary dinner for his boyfriend, Kay, while also packing his gym bag.
Vince had the whole evening mapped out: candlelit dinner, perfectly seared steak, a bottle of fine red wine, and—well, for later—a fresh bottle of lube discreetly tucked into his bag. He wasn’t exactly the most organized person, but he was enthusiastic, which Kay usually found charming. Usually.
The night started smoothly. Kay walked into their apartment to find Vince in a slightly too-tight apron, brandishing a spatula like a knight wielding a sword.
“Welcome home, my love,” Vince said with a dramatic flourish. “Tonight, I have prepared a feast of unparalleled luxury.”
Kay arched an eyebrow, already deeply suspicious. “This isn’t like that time you set the kitchen on fire trying to flambé a Pop-Tart, is it?”
“First of all, that was an artistic experiment,” Vince said. “And second, I have everything perfectly under control.”
To his credit, dinner was actually going well—until Vince decided to open the wine.
“Babe, you have to try this,” he said, pouring a generous glass for Kay. “It’s a rare vintage, very exclusive.”
Kay swirled the liquid in his glass, inhaling the deep, rich scent. “Fancy,” he murmured, bringing it to his lips. He took a sip—
And immediately choked.
“OH MY GOD.” Kay slammed the glass down, coughing violently. “VINCE. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”
Vince, ever the romantic idiot, leaned forward eagerly. “Smooth, right? Full-bodied? I read it has hints of oak and dark cherries—”
Kay, still gasping for air, glared at him. “Hints of what?!”
Vince grabbed the bottle, suddenly feeling very concerned. “Uh… Bordeaux 2016…? No, wait, that’s the lube.”
Silence.
Kay blinked. Vince blinked back.
A slow, creeping horror spread over Vince’s face as he turned the bottle in his hands. It was sleek, dark, and—oh no.
“Oh my god,” Vince whispered. “I—I gave you lube.”
Kay just stared. Then, in the most dramatic, slow-motion collapse imaginable, he let his head drop onto the table and wheezed with laughter.
“VINCE. YOU POURED ME A GLASS OF LUBE?!”
Vince, now bright red, stared at the bottle in disbelief. “To be fair, it’s very classy packaging!”
“Classy?! It literally says ‘Ultra-Glide Premium Silicone’ on the label!” Kay howled.
Vince groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “This is why we need better kitchen lighting.”
Kay wiped tears from his eyes, still laughing. “Wait. So where’s the actual wine?”
Vince paled.
They both turned to look at Vince’s gym bag, sitting by the door—where the actual expensive wine was now nestled against a pair of very questionable running shoes.
Kay smirked. “So, just to clarify—if I go over there, I’ll find a nice Cabernet Sauvignon marinating in your sweaty socks?”
Vince flopped back in his chair. “I AM A FAILURE.”
Kay patted his shoulder, still grinning. “No, babe. You’re just an idiot.”
And so, their romantic evening ended not with a fine wine pairing, but with an emergency run to the corner store—because while Kay loved Vince with all his heart, he drew the line at sipping silicone-based beverages.
Moral of the story? Always check the label. Unless you wanna dri-.....hehe...
