"Oh my god, we haven't brought a gift!"
The bride, my beloved friend Christine is famous for showing up to any event with far more goods than any guest should bring. Steen's brought birthday cakes for people she's never met, thoughtful and wrapped baubles she'd remembered from a 3 year old conversation... Shit, she once showed up to a dinner for 10 with a case of wine.
Not only were Mel and I late, we were empty-handed. For Christine's wedding BBQ, of all things.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Well, golly. This shindig was being held in the middle of a vineyard. We'll stop at a winery and pick up a coupla bottles of something fancy. But following the complex roads to our destination, Mel and I realized our predicament. All we were passing were grape vines and the occasional private residence.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Well, we have $112 in cash. 'Excuse me, sir. Do you have anything unopened?'"
Mel and I found this increasingly hilarious as we screeched into the first winery we saw. A charming woman guarded the gate. "Hello!" we squealed. "We are going to a party at the No Name Resort. We're empty handed. Help!"
Our lovely guard revealed said winery didn't open until 3pm. It was of course, 2pm. Again, fuck! But guard did guide us down the road. "It's either right before or directly behind the No Name. I can't remember. They'll sell you something. Good luck!"
As we drove away, Mel erupted into laughter. "Best case scenario, we arrive with wine from the joint next door.
'My, what an amazing coincidence. You don't say! We had no idea!'
"Oh Bethy, we're screwed."
Suddenly, we spotted an open tasting room. And while it was "By Appt. Only" we decided to take our chances. We pulled on to this 'appt. only' joint that doesn't deserve a link. As we walked up the front steps to a glass-doored, gorgeous tasting room, a woman came running out to meet us. She appeared horrified.
"Hi!" We gushed. "We have no appointment and we're dreadful. We're so sorry. We're on our way to a party and we're empty handed and we need two bottles of wine as soon as possible. Is there any way you can help us?"
She looked us up and down.
"Well, we have a very complex blend of several local vineyards that's similar to a lighter Zinfandel. It sells for $40. Otherwise, (her voice dropped to a whisper, still keeping us at the doorway) the rest of our bottles start at $200."
Fuck you, sweater set. "We'll take two forties."
Nervously, she brought us inside, where we noticed a table beautifully set up for a fancy 6 person wine-tasting, (but only two men were inside, shooting us dirty looks.)
Um, you're in a Nehru collar, douche. Relax.
"How would you like to pay for this?"
She asked as if we might not have any currency. Christ, she was almost shaking faced with our ghetto presence.
Oh, we'd like to barter. We've got some Nars lipgloss and a couple of Luna Bars.
"Cash. Thank you so much. We're so sorry to bother you."
Her pained expression accepted our bills with a look of confusion and disgust. "Leave it to us to roll into Opus One." Mel hissed. "What's with the whisper? What is she, performing surgery?"
Eventually, we made it to the party, WITH GIFTS, where I got in a water balloon fight, Mel was dressed as a mummy, and we met someone now known as 'bong water.' Stay tuned...