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Author: sazeracked One star, 50 posts Old School Fool Add to my Favorite Fools Ignore this person (you won't see their posts anymore) Number: of 6837  
Subject: the price points do the talking Date: 10/26/2006 1:00 AM
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I vaguely remember what romance is; it's hard, but I remember. I even spent Sunday baking. So tonight I had a lady-friend (I'll override the temptation to say "woman" which sounds too formal, and "girl" which sounds too inaccurate, and go with the ever-displeasing "lady-friend" which sounds a little lightweight but also a little promising) over to watch the World Series. She's from St. Louis, she's a big Cards fan.

Now, it's a classy lady-friend, who knows wine pretty well, and I thought I would try a burgundy, I'm not going to tell you which one precisely, because they all are so finnicky and even arbitrary from vineyard to vineyard and from year to year, but I am going to tell you the price, which is not like me: $69, and that was an appealing price point that made me snicker, and not just because it was a Gevrey-Chambertin, and you can take it from there.

Unfortunately, like a fool I checked the wine up and down but not the weather, and turn on the TV and sure enough there is a rain delay going on. Wondering precisely when to uncork the wine is only part of it---wonder when to cork the horrible Fox sitcoms is the other part, the major part in fact. Finally, after twenty-five minutes languishing between expectation and embarrassment, I opt to shut down the one and uncork the other. But still, the mere act of being obliged to turn on and off a TV every fifteen minutes or so is utterly, shall we say, mood-killing.

You know that taste of burgundy when it is pretty good. It has sunlight in it, that taste. Maybe if everyone in St. Louis opened up a bottle, we could get this show on the road. But alas, it was not to be---the game was scrubbed at an ungodly hour, and now, I am left with the admirable but dubious challenge: invite her back tomorrow, and show how cheap I really am when I uncork the bottle of Rodney Strong? Or keep the little French fantasy alive and get a bottle of Nuits-St.-George? Or maybe go for something odd from Oregon in between? When you are entertaining not women, not girls, but lady-friends, on back-to-back nights, the price points do far too much of the talking, whether you want them to or not.

Best to you,

Sazeracked
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