Dutch Courage

She had rehearsed the speech a hundred times. She knew it inside out.

But now the time had come to deliver it she was a bag of nerves and she had convinced herself she couldn't remember any of it.

The flashcards might help, but the half pint of gin she had foolishly consumed for Dutch courage might not.

Why is it called Dutch courage? she wondered as she was led towards the stage.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” she slurred ever so slightly.

The audience sat and waited for her to deliver the kind of profound stuff they'd seen in her newspaper column.

“Do any of you know why it's called Dutch courage?” She sounded a little tipsy.

There was silence.

“That wasn't a rhetorical question. I really want to know.” She sounded very drunk.

Mumbling came from the audience. This wasn't what they had paid good money for.