The Slice: Liquor in the front, denial in the rear

Ever been caught in what looked like a compromising situation? This is for you.

Earlier this month, my wife accompanied her sister and their mother to an extended-family gathering back East. They stayed at the home of a longtime friend.

This friend served drinks featuring ginger ale and a splash of Evan Williams Honey Reserve. That’s a bourbon with a dollop of honey, which I guess makes it a liqueur.

My wife thought I might enjoy one of those cocktails. So after getting home, she ordered a bottle from a liquor store not far from our house.

The next afternoon, she asked if I wanted to go collect the booze. I had just gotten up from a nap and looked like a hibernating muskrat, so I said I would drive if she would handle the actual purchase.

The trip to the liquor store didn’t take long. And after my wife got back in the car, she unscrewed the bottle cap to take a sniff. She asked if I wanted a whiff.

In an attempt to be amusing, I moved the bottle toward my lips as if I intended to take a swig. “I believe I’ll drink and drive,” I said, furthering this grand humor motif.

“No!” my wife cried as she pulled on the bottle, no doubt thinking I would not enjoy the taste of the stuff straight and that it would put me off wanting to have one of the ginger ale concoctions.

At that very instant, with the bottle a fraction of an inch from my mouth, there was a rapping on the driver’s-side car window.

It was James Dodds, an acquaintance I had not seen in years. He had recognized me. Wanted to say hello.

I rolled down the window and tried to explain that I wasn’t really sitting in a liquor store parking lot with bed hair chugging a fifth of whiskey.

James was friendly and did not seem to be judging me. He’s a good guy.

He jokingly noted, though, that I am potentially recognizable and need to be careful in public.

Maybe that’s true. So if you see me do something that seems hideously ill-advised, all I ask is that you give me the benefit of the doubt.

There might be a reasonable explanation.

Today’s Slice question: Do baby-strollers at Bloomsday remind you of battle chariots?