I'm Freakin' Sophisticated

Last night I decided to class my ass up a bit and went to a wine and cheese bar. After getting over the initial shock that a wine and cheese bar sells only wine and cheese, I went with a very delicious sounding glass of Pinot Grigio that had notes of light citrus and delicate floral aromas that were complemented by hints of tropical fruit flavors. It was also the cheapest. I sat in a leather wing back chair with my smoking jacket on enjoying the company of good friends and listening to the jazz music that played softly over head. The candles cast a pale warm glow across the room and the Christmas tree in the corner made the place feel like a second kind of home. The smell of cured meets and savory crackers filled my nose and the clinking of wine glasses was oh so comfortable. Then another sound erupted that was incongruous with the atmosphere. The sound was that of a little girl who was screaming with wonder at the Christmas tree that only moments ago had seemed so comforting. "What the hell is a little girl doing in a bar?" I hissed to a friend. I spun my head around to see where the parent of this wayward tot was and I saw her sitting at a table holding another child. Now there were two things ruining my night; a little girl and a little boy. No, this was not happening. I went to this wine bar to be sophisticated and shit, not irritated and shit. The little girl started running towards our end of the room. I quickly shot a look that I thought would effectively create an invisible wall around my friends, but this little girl crashed through my barrier and sat on the step next to us. Of course she screamed as she ran. The mother got up and rushed over to the brat. I eagerly anticipated seeing a swat on the butt or a slap on the wrist to teach this kid a lesson. But no. The mother simply said, "No, no we don't want to bother these other people, sweetie." Newsflash, Mom: too late. I'm bothered. The mother then took the little girl by both hands and spun her around while the little girl laughed. And screamed. Then the little boy wanted a turn. What the fuck is wrong with people? Do they not see I am trying to be all mature and cultured? I'm sittin' in a freakin' wine bar for cryin' out loud. Jesus H. Christ.

The parents let the kids play as they finished their glasses of wine. Meanwhile, I had blood dripping out of my ears from listening to the kids scream with laughter at whatever the fuck makes a four year old scream with laughter. More than once I saw mom get up and join in on the fun making the kids even louder. It was simply not possible for me to give them an eye that was any stinkier than the one I was giving them. After about 15 minutes, I noticed that they asked for the check. Either, it was the kids bedtime or the parents finally realized that their darling children were annoying the fuck out of everyone else in the bar. After they left, I readjusted my face from the scowl and let my eyes resolve back to their natural state of bleary and bloodshot. Finally, I could get all sophisticated. I pulled out my pipe and put my feet up on the ottoman ready to enjoy my night of being civilized. I retied my ascot and ordered my second glass of wine, but this time I didn't get the cheapest one. I got the second cheapest one. 'Cause I'm sophisticated and shit.


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Please Drink Responsibly. But Only if You Really Want To

No one is a bigger fan of enjoying a cocktail than I am. There is absolutely nothing wrong with catching a good buzz and using alcohol as a social lubricant. Why just last night I had two Mojitos. And a couple of days before that I had two mimosas, two margaritas, a berry cosmo and a pomegranate martini. Of course I spread that out over a good amount of time so as not to become Punch Drunk Judy. However, Punch Drunk Judy did make an appearance in my station recently and she was a lovely lovely woman. A lovely wino of a woman I shall call Judy McDrunkity Drunk.

At the club, everyone must have their two drink minimum throughout the course of the hour and ten minute show. For some teetotalers it takes quite a bit of effort to suck down two gimlets every 35 minutes. But not for Judy McDrunkity Drunk. She sat down and ordered a glass of wine. She was very sweet. I brought her first glass of Pinot Grigio and went on my merry way to get the rest of the drink orders before the show started. A few minutes later she gave me that arched eyebrow look that said she wanted my attention. I went to her table and she cocked her head with a smile and lightly tapped the rim of her empty wine glass. She was ready for round two before the show had even started. I love when that happens. I took her drink to her and since I could hardly reach her table because of the crowd, she stood up and reached forward for it and took it from me. She was being helpful. When she ordered a third glass of wine and stood up to take it from me, this time it didn't seem as helpful as it seemed desperate for the sweet nectar of the grape. A while later, I got the arched eyebrow look again, but this time it wasn't so much that her eyebrows were arched but more like her eyeballs were sagging. I took glass number four and thought surely she must be done now because the show is almost over. Nope. This time her husband ordered it for her. I assumed she longer had the ability to allow her appendages to function. I was proven wrong when I brought her glass number five and she popped right up and reached over the table to wrap her bony thirsty fingers around the stem of the glass.

The show ended a few minutes after that and I passed out checks. I thought for certain that checks weren't the only thing that was going to be passed out that night, but Judy was happy as a clam. Seemed totally fine and loved the show. Of course, she loved the show. After an entire bottle of wine even The Blindside (starring Oscar® winner Sandra Bullock) is enjoyable. The check was paid and I was at the computer closing out my cash when I saw her walking towards me on her way out.

"Good night," I said. "Thanks for coming. I hope you enjoyed the show."

Judy focused her glassy eyes on me and came right up to my face and proclaimed, "I loved it! And thank you so much." She pressed her lips to my cheek, kissed the hell out of it and walked out of the club with her husband. I was left with a really great tip and a really wet face from the lips of a wino named Judy McDrunkity Drunk.

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