Happy Hour

"I'm not really fussy, I just look it."


Marissa and I went on our traditional happy hour excursion on Friday: wine tasting at Oliver's. She goes more frequently than I do and her mom goes too, so she knows more people there, but I still like it. I even like being around people who are regulars and know each other, even if I am not one of those regulars. It's still fun. The first time I went with her, it was one of the pourer's last day AND his birthday. He got three rounds of "happy birthday" over the two hour tasting session because everyone wanted a chance to sing. You could hear them through out the store.

The wine tastings can get to be very crowded. Marissa and I have compared them to mosh pits before. Sophisticated most pits, of course. We can't bump into each other while we're sipping the mother devil of all staining devices: red wine. Friday was no exception; it was way crowded. The pourer was so cool, though. She looked typical Napa valley wine snob. She had perfect skin, perfect hair, and a great but not too trendy outfit. Though she looked snobby, she totally wasn't. First of all, she didn't want to see my I.D., she said I was cute, she poured huge portions, and kept stuffing cheeses and pate's down our throats. Then, someone was reluctant to give her a tissue to throw away, but she was all for it. She said, "I'm not really fussy, I just look it."

Hehehe. Marissa and I loved it.