Friday, June 04, 2010


Susan came to town last weekend. We went drivin' around and she spotted a Winery and wanted to check it out. I'd never been in one before.
We went in and there was a dude behind a bar, handsome in a George Peppard kind of way, silver chest hairs emanating from a shirt unbuttoned at least 4 buttons down, gold chains, pinkie ring, the works. Looked like a real swinger.
Total Californication.
He's handing out Wine samples, which I can have none of. I have 693 days clean and sober.
I’m feeling wary as a canary in a cat house.
Whats going through my mind is the fact that I haven’t had so much as a sip of ANYTHING for two years, and that whatever he is serving probably is really marvelous and tasty and good and if I even take a sip for a second I’m going to remember how much I LOVE a dry red wine and how it makes me feel all ooshy-gooshy and then there won’t be much stopping me from having a glass and then a bottle and then just like they talk about down at NA, it will release my addiction all over again and the next thing I know I’ll be checkin’ into some No-Tell Motel with some young freak and a big fat sack of diddly-squiggly.
The Freak Centers of my brain are activly engaged and my specials are lit.

Anyway, be that as it may, Susan looks at me, sees the look on my face and then she gets this horrified look on her face, remembers that I am an addict and a “12 Stepper” and that I should not be in a Winery with a swingin’ Bartender presenting magnificent wines for me to have a sample of.. Its just not a good place for me to be.
She whispers “Oh my God Steve….I forgot…. I’m so sorry…we better leave!”
But I’m feeling a little stronger now, especially since Mr. Californication says it will cost 20 bucks to participate in his little Wine Tasting Chemistry Experiment.
“Its OK, I’m good” I whisper back to Susan
He takes up the glasses from the 4 people that were already there. He asks a lady if she liked that last wine, a dry Red.
“Yes” she says “It was delicious!”
“So” he says “would you like to take it up to the next level?”
The next level?
I lean to Susan and whisper ‘I’m OK, but if he pulls out a mirror and a straw I’m afraid I may have to leave.”
I know all about the next level.


SL said...

I'm really glad you were able to withstand the temptation....I just can't picture you as a swingin' swinger in gold chains and a pinky ring!

red dirt girl said...

LOL - this is classic cowboy lit. I met Dennis Hopper once in LA at a trendy little art gallery. He scared me.


bulletholes said...

Hey Red! You were right to be scared.

Anonymous said...

"The Next Level"--those words always ended up with me sitting at a kitchen table at dawn saying, "What do you mean it's all gone?!?" Great story, pal. UF Mike

Jaye Ramsey Sutter said...

George Peppard sort of way

That's why I like the way you write.

Kim said...

I always enjoyed shuffling through the levels over and over in the course of an escapade.