As often happens on
email discussions in the Pundit’s Apprentice circle, the exchange about
saberage, which I reported
on yesterday, branched out a bit. One of the fellows said he’d be sending
the video to his sons “and possibly my ‘I can do it myself’ daughter.”
On account of, “It’s
always important for young people to be sophisticated and know how to
impressingly open champagne [or Piper Sonoma, or Asti Spumante, etc.),
especially when you are out on a date—or you have an unexpected evening alone
at home, and want to drown your sorrows.”
Well—did I not tell
you that people in the Pundit’s Apprentice-Stretch set are extremely
interesting? This guy has a weltanschauung
that totally aligns with mine.
First off, I think it’s
extremely important, when out on a date, to demonstrate that you possess
weapons, and that you know how to use them. It sets realistic expectations
straight off the bat.
Also, it lets your
companion know how much you appreciate the choice of sparkling wine over
something like Château Thames Embankment.
And, no doubt, it
impresses the wait staff. You’ll get much better service after that.
But I also like his
inclusion of doing up the night in properly—not just the “drowning your sorrows”
part; anyone can do that, to the soundtrack of some Country & Western CD.
No—by whacking the cork out of a bottle of bubbly with a saber.
That’s style to the
core, baby.
He went on to add, “Actually,
I know a number of single women who tell me that they daily make a full dinner
for themselves, and polish off an entire bottle of wine with it, which I have
never been tempted to do: either make a full dinner for myself and/or polish
off a whole bottle of wine.”
Well, again—this person
travels in first-rate circles. Women who don’t need no stinkin’ guests to
prepare and eat a slap-up meal, and who aren’t afraid to drink a whole bottle
of wine with it.
You go, girls!
Here’s the deal: for
the longest time I used my dining table strictly as a place to dump papers. But
about three months ago, I decided that I was an idiot. Since then I cleared off
(at least half of) the table and had dinner there every night (except for three
occasions, which were allowable exceptions). I set my place on the tablecloth,
with linen napkins and a crystal wine glass.
(I long since threw
away the notion that crystal is for guests only. And most of my stemware either
came as a gift from someone or was purchased on one of my trips to Europe, so
every piece has happiness associated with it. My good china may be packed away
in a garage; but I damn well drink wine from crystal.)
Okay—I probably have
the TV on, or am streaming video on the laptop. But I’m sat at the table,
eating an actual whole meal, with veggies and everything, and I feel a lot more
humanoid than if I were just, say, eating potato chips out of the bag and
washing them down with caffeine-free Diet Coke while checking Facebook updates.
(Which I don’t. Because you get the salt and oil all over your keyboard.)
So far I’ve refrained
from drinking a whole bottle of wine at one sitting. Although there have been
nights when I considered it. So it’s still an option.
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