In Vino Veritas

You're not going to believe it! It was all set up, it could have been beautiful.

So I meet this girl at a parent-teacher conference. She was really somethin', she had long blonde hair and tan skin, the whole movie star look. And I don't see no ring on her finger, so I say to myself - what do you got to lose? Ask her out. So I do. She's lookin' over at me from the stand where they got the coffee and the water and all that, so I go over there and we make a bit of small talk about the curriculum. You know the stuff, Shakespeare this, civil rights that, the periodic table - all the stuff that comes back to you that the teachers forced down your throat and you've never used since. I don't tell her that, of course, I go along with it all and I don't talk about myself until she asks about me. That's a golden rule, see? Don't come off as one of those guys that loves themselves and jumps in too quickly. Wait a little to see if they have any interest, and then you get to mention your strengths all casual and subtle. I tell her about the corner office, how the firm is doing well, how lucky I am to travel a little for work, crack a little joke about listing the airport as my business address. You know me, right? Then there's only so long we can stand by the coffee eye-fuckin' each other, so we swap numbers and get back to our seats. Her name is Cleo and I save the number, but I don't text her for 3 days. That's another rule. But when I do text her, I tell her I want to take her to a nice dinner at the club, joke about how important it is to review the school curriculum again.

So about a week later, we're at the club. It's been a while since I was on a date, what with the divorce and the job and keeping up with the kids and all. Plus, this woman is a 10, so I'm sparin' no expense. I order the chef's tasting menu for us both ahead of time and I order the most expensive wine on the list, which is some Italian Merlot at $350 a bottle. I've got my lucky white Polo shirt on, everything is perfect. I'm sittin' at the table, there's candles and she walks over in this classy black dress. Nothin's out, right? She ain't givin' anythin' away, she's leavin' it all to the imagination. Like I said, class all the way. She smiles as she takes a seat across from me and I'm feelin' like I know the omens are good. I pour her a little wine, we clink glasses and I ask her how she's been. I tell her that I've ordered for the two of us and she gets a little offended, starts tellin' me she's a vegetarian and I shouldn't have been presumptuous.

I let it go, I smile and tell her we can change the menu. No problem. I also avoid the whole debate around bein' a vegetarian, because I don't like too much confrontation, right? You know me. I still have high hopes at this point. Then when one of the courses comes out, these pig cheeks in a red wine sauce, I can tell she has a problem with me eatin' meat. She's changed to just a chef's salad, which is fine, but I'm meant to change to that too? Seems a little excessive, no? I'm tryin' not to make an issue out of it but she's givin' me this sour look and it's hard to enjoy my food so I crack and I ask her if there's a problem. She starts on about animal rights and the climate and all this stuff, but to tell you the truth, I kind of tuned out while she was talking. All the while her beauty was fading away. You know the same way a girl who ain't too much of a looker will seem prettier if she's got heart and a cheerful personality? Well, this lady was the opposite. I started finding little flaws in the shape of her nose, the thinness of her eyebrows, thinkin' of all the stuff she was probably insecure about herself when she looked in the mirror. I mean, the restaurant is still servin' the meat, what difference does it really make if I eat it or not? I tell her that and she just goes up and up higher on her high horse. She says to me, "I didn't realize you were so small-minded." Can you believe that? I was stunned. We were in a classy place and she was ruinin' it. I say to her, "We got a $350 bottle of wine here, can't we have a nice night?" She says she doesn't care, so I tell her with that kind of attitude it's no wonder her husband left her. You know me, I have to speak my mind. Anyway, she picks up her glass of this $350 Merlot and she launches it across the table, it goes all over my shirt. What a waste of a delicious wine! And I'm the one that's small-minded?! Unbelievable!

So there it is, that's how I got the stain. Some people have just got no taste, you know? I guess it can't be helped. Now, how much do I owe you? Don't forget, you can hook me up with a discount after all the money I just blew, after all I'm not a pushy guy but I do come here all the time, right? Lemme know when to pick it up and remember, that's my lucky Polo shirt!