Martes, en la noche...
Went to a Holiday Wine Tasting with Herr M, the famous German Bassist and Nissan Sentra Operator. What a pleasant treat this was, for, of the twelve tasters in attendence, 11 held doctorates. I had fun, introducing myself as a college dropout - and the subsequent feelings of uniqueness, like being a rare and admirable strain of mildew, were surely swell. Being that they were good people, they acknowledged my unofficial intelligence nevertheless and a good time was had by all.
The brainy & frugal Herr M. was able to secure a Fine Bottle for under 3 dollars(CAD), which hisssed like a threatend water moccasin when the cap was loosened revealing a perky "soda-esque" bouquet - a harmonious marraige of Froot Flavorz and Windex. Herr M., Il Palato, who prefers Cola with his Duck AL'Orange, is the only partygoer able to swallow this special vintage without a twisted grimace. We both exhibit unique traits at this gathering, Herr M. & I. Did I not say that this night was a treat? (Herr M. ends up demanding a recount after the final tally is read.)
Afterward, inside a speeding Nissan Sentra on pitch black Cemetery Road, the introspective Herr M. confesses... the Leggy Doctress, the woman with the winning $13 merlot, Herr M. finds her to be Most Beautiful. I nod in the affirmative, though, only half-heartedly, ever aware of the true and Most Beautiful, who bags groceries at the supermarket. Herr M. reaches for the radio... Foghat... ouch.
