The fabulous owner of our beloved local vino bar, Hoppin’ Grapes, has invited me and two other lucky ladies to an industry wine tasting event in Tucson, later this month, and my cheeks are all aflush just thinking about it.
It’s a large, annual event held at a beautiful resort where vendors ply merchants with free booze and food. Excellent booze, superb food. Some friends of mine were invited to go last year, and they described the experience as something close to a celestial playground for lushes.
A fermented nirvana.
Heaven for winos.
“I had a 300 dollar glass of wine, and do you know what? It tasted like a 300 dollar glass of wine! I tasted every dollar of it. Every. Dollar. It was amazing……… I think it changed my life.”
That may not be a direct quote, but close enough.
Thus my team of wine-tasty ladies and I have already booked our master suite and, it likely goes without saying but, MY EXCITED MENTAL CARTWHEELS OF EXCITEMENT ARE SO FREAKING EXCITED RIGHT NOW. Because, if there’s a chain in this scenario, anywhere, I’m completely certain this event is going to fly the frack off it!
The only draw back might be that I’d recently decided to make ever-so-slight changes to the amount (abundance?) of intoxicating beverages I consume. Perhaps a contradictory goal in light of today’s “Whoo-hoo! Let’s party, bitches!” war cry. But……it’s all good. And fine. And well.
Pay no mind to the drunken woman behind the curtain.