Before I had a blog I used to just compose weird stuff on Facebook. This piece of silliness showed up in my Facebook memories yesterday. I think perhaps I wrote it the day after Studly Doright had knee replacement surgery. He was being a complete arse, and I was dreaming of greener pastures.
Pretending for grownups part 3: Wine Tasting
I tasted the third wine offering, swished, and spat (spit?) into a bucket and made some noises along the lines of “lovely notes of asparagus and wheat with a charmingly simple nose dusted with peaches and pork rinds,” when a tall handsome stranger caught my eye.
Danged eye, why can’t you stay in the socket where you belong?
He handed it to me in one graceful move. “I couldn’t help but notice you have an incredible set of buds.”
I blushed, until I realized he was talking about my taste buds.
“Which is your favorite wine so far?” He asked.
I pointed boldly to the red, a heady merlot.
“I like a woman who knows what she likes,” he said with a wink.
“Well, I like you.” I smile.
“I like that you know that you like me,” he said.
“I thought you might.”
He sipped the wine. I sipped mine. We sipped. And sipped. And sipped some more, Closing the deal was never my forte, nor his it seemed.
“Are you married?” He finally asked.
“I was. My husband died in an unfortunate knee replacement incident.”
“I happen to have two excellent knees.”
And in that moment I knew he was the one for me.