“Want to see a cool trick?” She leaned across the table, then whispered: “I’ll bet that I can unzip your whole wine glass without spilling.”
“That you can do what without spilling?”
“Just watch.” At first, it looked like she was just going to perform the old-fashioned humming glass trick. Her fingertip followed the circumference of the glass’s rim, circling several times until it met a patch of abrupt resistance. She pinched this point between her index and thumb, then slowly pulled downward. The glass responded to this motion; as she tugged, the material split along the path, curling outward in transparent coils. By the time she’d reached the bottom, the bowl of the glass had wilted around its stem like a ball gown, leaving a naked hemisphere of wine suspended in midair. The exposed fluid rippled in all directions, held together by its surface tension alone.
“Sometimes the glasses are buttoned shut,” she explained. “That’s much harder to deal with.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s cool and all, but now, how am I supposed to drink it?”
“All at once is usually best. At least, as long as it will fit.”
“Wait, what? Fit where?”
“You’ll be amazed when you see what else can be unzipped.”