Somehow I don’t think polishing off a bottle of white wine and two pieces of pumpkin pie meshes with my get-healthy plan. (Don’t tell Ceci!)
Besides, neither one was my fault – in fact, I was only being helpful. See, the paper moved offices today, which meant cleaning out the fridge, where a bottle of white whine happened to be loitering. No one in the office even likes white wine! So after Helen had emptied the ancient salsas, hummus and half-and-half, I bravely volunteered to run the icky stuff to the dumpster. And to take the white wine off her hands. Of course, when my garbage and I arrived at the dumpster – expired cream splashing on my boots as I walked – it was locked. After nodding to the circle of dope-smokers tucked in the alley corner, I left and, after striding back into Jacoby’s, finally found an open trash can enabling me to deal with the smelly, dripping mess. The wine and I went home. The sun had warmed the house up, making a cold glass of wine quite refreshing.
But as soon as I was home, the cute neighbor kid came over, wondering if I would like some duck eggs. Of course! We go through eggs like water over here and since I refuse to support factory farming, the expense ratchets up quickly. Then she and her brother also wanted to come over. Of course! They have a new-ish baby at their house, so I am happy to provide them with some attention and their folks with a break – I just wasn’t expecting to spend the afternoon making a pumpkin pie. A pie that, I should mention – I lacked a pie pan for, instead making do with an eight-inch square pan. At this point, I had another glass of wine.
Unfortunately, they had to return home before it finished baking, then K was in a hurry to watch our movie, so instead of the salad I’d planned, we ended up eating pumpkin pie for dinner. She had tea. I had my third glass of wine, the clear notes of the grape perfectly matched to the warm spices of the pie.
The movie, Van Helsing, earned terrible reviews, so I hesistated fulfilling K’s request to rent it. (She’d seen part of it elsewhere and wanted to now see the whole thing.) When I arrived at VX, I spent 10 minutes scanning new releases – Mondays are half-off – in hopes of finding something else. A couple looked promising, so I ambled up to the counter, “What do you think of these?” I asked the supercool, always helpful, articulate woman whose name I really, really should know by now. She hadn’t seen the one I particularly asked about, but knew people who had, but wasn’t sure, so she looked up reviews online. Meanwhile, the guy working chimed in what he knew. I revealed that I was looking for something to substitute for Van Helsing, which led her to ask, “Why?” as she’d found it entertaining. That, in turn, led to a discussion of other comic-based movies. In less than 10-minutes, I had a clear grasp on what to rent, plus a quality conversation with someone who knew of what she spoke. You don’t get that from Netflix, people! (Or any other video store in town.) I value VX’s staff for caring, for knowing movies, for stocking a variety of DVDs, for maintaining order, for always being willing to advise or discuss anything I’m considering.
We watched the movie, which was entertaining, and I figured since one more glass of wine would polish off the bottle, might as well. Yes, within six hours, that bottle’s life began and ended. A short life, perhaps, but well lived.
It’s not just the wine, but VX, I really love you, man!