Blackout_ Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget - Sarah Hepola
I’m in Paris on a magazine assignment, which is exactly as great as it sounds. I eat dinner at a restaurant so fancy I have to keep resisting the urge to drop my fork just to see how fast someone will pick it up. I’m drinking cognac—the booze of kings and rap stars—and I love how the snifter sinks between the crooks of my fingers, amber liquid sloshing up the sides as I move it in a figure eight. Like swirling the ocean in the palm of my hand.
I’m in Paris on a magazine assignment, which is exactly as great as it sounds. I eat dinner at a
restaurant so fancy I have to keep resisting the urge to drop my fork just to see how fast someone will
pick it up. I’m drinking cognac—the booze of kings and rap stars—and I love how the snifter sinks
between the crooks of my fingers, amber liquid sloshing up the sides as I move it in a figure eight.
Like swirling the ocean in the palm of my hand.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR<br />
SARAH HEPOLA’S writing has appeared in <strong>the</strong> New York Times Magazine , The New Republic,<br />
Glamour, The Guardian, The Morning News, and Salon, where she is an edi<strong>to</strong>r. She has worked as a<br />
music critic, travel writer, film reviewer, sex blogger, beauty columnist, and a high school English<br />
teacher. Her website is sarahhepola.com. She lives in Dallas.