Wine tasting.

Erugh. I went to a wine tasting yesterday evening. I tasted and it was good. Then I tasted some more and then my host-the lovely girl- brought out yet more wine, this time with spicy chilli crisps and cheese, that was terrifically good.
However this morning I am feeling not so terrifically good and there is a fucking alarm going off close by, it's going weeewooo weeeeoooo, only very loud indeed. So loud in fact I can feel it in my teeth.
I am sitting here-at the end of the dining room table- wearing one of the paramour's enormous hoodies, my hair askew and eyes all squinty and puffy.
What could possibly make me feel worse than I do right now I might wonder idly.
Why I know, the sudden realisation that I, Fatmammycat the VELLY hungover, said I would go into town with a friend of mine to look for a dress for a wedding.
This friend is notoriously picky. She will try on every dress she sees, asking 'What about this one, hummm?
I will say, 'Yes, it's lovely buy that one!'
To which she will reply, 'I don't like the line/shoulders/ hem/way it moves/colour/style.'
I will swear in my head and wonder why the fuck she tried it on then.
'I think I preferred that one we saw in Wallis.' She will say, forcing me to throttle myself.
'Or was it Wallis?'
We will go back to Wallis where she will remember she didn't actually like that dress either.
She will do this repeatedly until I keel over with a sudden case of death.
I don't know why she wants me to go along. It won't matter what I think, it never has before and today will not be any different.
Why do people do that? Why ask if you've already made up your own mind? Why ask me? Why God why?
Why today? Why that alarm? Why me?
So, what fantastical excuse can I use to get out of this? She'll be on the road by one and here about half an hour after that, so we've a few hours. Come on! THINK! DAMN IT! Think!