How I know I'm getting old.
I volunteered my boyfriend and I to pour wine at an annual wine/food fundraiser last weekend. You never know what these things are going to be like when you volunteer...like it might be totally organized...
-you are assigned a table, have breaks at regular intervals, must ration your pours, no drinking or eating.
Those events suck.
This one was really great.
My sweet and I chose to pour some Austrailian shirazs (I really liked the location of the table..right by the bananas foster station). We were out of the way a little and in the back of the room so the people watching was super. I didn't know a whole lot about shiraz but drunk people will believe anything you tell them.
And people got drunk.
I could go on and on about the food...
piles of sashimi grade ahi, oysters, mussels, steak with blue cheese and arugala, kajiki carpaccio, miso butterfish, wild mushroom risotto. super yum. We even got to take any unpoured wines home at the end of the night. I ended up with nearly a case of almost full bottles as well as a giant bottle of sake.
But there is just one story I want to tell. A story that deserves to be told.
A very drunk 20-something guy came over and stood in between our table and the one next to us staffed by 2 older Japanese men pouring Zinfandels (one of whom spent the night getting loaded and gassing us out).
The transcript follows:
Boy: which table...which table... YOURS![aiming himself in my direction].
Me: Hey, how's it going.
Boy: [to the japanese guys] It's just I'm not gay. [to me] I mean, I don't have anything against gay people.
Boy: I've tried it twice and it's not for me.
Yep. This guy, flanked by two not drunk friends, told me about his experimentation with man-love. He went on to hit on me and ask for my number in front of my boyfriend (we kept looking at eachother and laughing). I told his friends to get him something to eat.
And THAT's how I know I'm getting old.