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Wine Wednesday Turns Deadly in South Oakland

If you love wine as much as the next one-Franzia-box-per-weekend drinker, “Wine Wednesday” is most likely a reoccurring event in your Lilly Pulitzer planner for the next five years. If this statement applies to you, then you would be fully aware of the fact that “Wine Wednesday’ went down last night. Though this social (or solo, no judgment) outing is intended to be a magical night spent drowning your sorrows, ignoring your nonexistent love life, and neglecting your sky-scraper tower of homework by consuming goblet-sized glasses of room-temperature wine, sometimes shit happens. Last night, your average wine-connoisseur felt both the backlash of the wine and the Antarctica-like weather, resulting in a not so enjoyable night. 

 

As Caren walked to her friend’s house on Atwood Street last night, around 10:30 p.m., looking what she called her “single af but not trying to make it look like I’m trying because no one wants to look like they’re trying” look. Though Caren was wearing her black-marshmallow winter jacket, one part of her getup seemed a little off for the teen temperatures: her footwear. Instead of opting to wear boots like 97% of the female Pitt population, Caren chose to wear her new peep-toe wedges, which exposed three of her painted toes to the whipping winds of Pittsburgh-turned-tundra. No one in their right mind would dare to do the act that Caren was committing, not even the year-round crop-top wearing freshmen girls.

 

Caren strutted out of Tower’s Lobby and towards her destination, feeling confidence in both her appearance and from the wine. According to Caren, wine has the power to make anyone feel like they’re as hot as a pregnant Blake Lively (though Caren’s frantically studying roommate didn’t seem to agree). Caren’s body met the outside winds in a crack that could be heard from Sutherland. Though the rest of her body was not exposed, Caren’s toes immediately started to suffer. By the time Caren arrived at her friend’s house on Atwood, ready to take a bottle to the face (according to Caren, it had been a long week so far), she realized that something didn’t feel right… or didn’t feel at all.

 

Caren glanced down to the ground to find that the three of the exposed toes on her left foot seemed to have froze off, leaving just a blank space *cue Taylor Swift*. Her wine haze was at an all time high, leaving Caren to dismiss the missing toes and continue on her journey to the mecca that is Wine Wednesday. Nothing was going to stand between Caren and her moment of fame that was ~slapping the bag~.

 

Caren wined (and whined) the night away with her friends, spilling more wine than she consumed. As midnight rolled around, Cinderella was reminded of the fact that she was missing three toes rather than a glass slipper. However, time was of the essence, and the three little piggies probably ran all the way home to Towers by now anyway. Faced with this situation, there was only one issue to consider: Sorrento’s, Antoon’s, or Pizza Romano? 

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