|Dangerspouse Rides Again|
Garage - Track
Nov. 10, 2003 - 3:17 p.m.
I dunno how much longer I can stand the sound of my own typing. "The bells, the bells!"
A little background:
I'm a wineaux. That's a wine-o who uses a glass. I don't drink a lot, but I actually know my shit when it comes to wine (used to teach wine courses in Manhattan, and some other related credentials).
NewWifey(tm) is a wineaux also. But a fairly recent convert. And like all converts, she has immersed herself body and soul into her newfound religion. She's also Irish.
Yesterday, Sunday, was a sterling day full of fun and frivolity. We funned. We frivolled. And at the end of it, we feasted.
Now previously, on Saturday past, NewWifey(tm) and two buddies had a Girls Day Out in the City. It was a kick-ass time, from what I hear. They created a ruckus in Toys In Babeland (uh...still don't know how to link shit. If you're curious, it's here: http://www.babeland.com ) and ended up buying identical toys. Sort of a sisterhood bonding moment for them, I'm guessing. They ate Pho at a Vietnamese restaurant, even though one of the girls was convinced that the majority of the menu would consist of dog and didn't want to go. They did some shopping in the Village, some art galleries in Soho that they didn't understand, some general touristing. And on the way back, they stopped at the 9th Avenue Cheese Market.
Have I ever mentioned the 9th Avenue Cheese Market? If not, let me rectify that now: "9th Avenue Cheese Market." There.
To elaborate, the place is Kurdish Heaven. (Get it? Huh? Huh?? God, I crack myself up....) If an animal lactates, chances are you'll find the cheese from its milk somewhere on the shelves of the 9th Avenue Cheese Market. It's just amazing, and they've got the best prices in the City, too.
NewWifey(tm) loves the place, partly because NewWifey(tm) loves goat cheeses. And they have more goat cheeses there than our supermarket has brands of cereal.
So at the end of their tour, the Girls stopped in and stocked up on fromage. Pounds and pounds of fromage. When she came home, NewWifey(tm) plopped almost 5 pounds worth of cheese on the counter, spread out among 6 or 7 varieties. I think there was one sheep's milk cheese tossed in, just to be daring.
On Sunday then, after frivolling and funning, we arranged the cheeses and some fruit, crusty bread and olives on my largest butcher block cutting board. It fits neatly between us on our reclining loveseat, and only really causes trouble if one or the other of us decides to recline or get up while the other remains stationary. Then we have to fish 5 pounds of goat cheese from between the cushions for a week. But we pretty much coordinate our sitting routines flawlessly by now.
Of course, as mentioned above, we are wineaux's. And so an appropriate bottle was produced. A magnum (that's the 2-bottle size) of decent cab/shiraz blend that NewWifey(tm) favors.
Did I mention that NewWifey(tm) is Irish? Or that I'm not?
It's true. But that's really not an impediment to our relationship...except when we are imbibing. Being the generous, considerate fellow that I am, I feel it incumbent on me not to let my wife suffer by drinking alone. So I try to match her.
I never do. And last night was no exception. I swear I held my own through the first 45 minutes of the "Iron Chef" episode we'd taped the night before (Sakai won! Woo hoo!). That may not seem like very long to you, but we also play a drinking game centering around the show that we'd found online a while back. 45 minutes drained that magnum, people. I thought I was going to be saved the indignity of once again passing out while my wife was barely even flushed, when she announced, "Oh, I also brought home a bottle of Port!"
NewWifey(tm) loves Port probably more than she loves goat cheese, if that's possible. For the last two years her tipple of choice in this regard has been Fonseca Bin-27. It's a proprieter's blend of non-vintage wines that is a pretty good value, and she sucks it down like Tang. But lately she's been branching out to other styles, and this time she purchased a Taylor-Fladgate LBV ("Late Bottled Vintage") '97. It would take a hell of a Port to knock off that Fonseca as her House Choice, but I think that this Taylor may have done just that.
Well, she popped the top forthwith, and brought out the Blue Cheese she'd been saving for just that very wine. And man, it was indeed a taste sensation. But - for those of you who may not be as immersed in wine as you should be - Port is a fortified wine. That means they add even more alcohol to it than regular wine. I knew with my first mouthfull that I was sunk.
But I soldiered on, because I'm a good husband and don't want my wife to drink alone. My body was numbed and heavy, but my arm continued to raise and lower my glass from sheer muscle memory. By the end credits, we were dry again.
I had had it. Pleading the necessity to get up for work in a few hours I made it to bed. I didn't trust myself to work a toothbrush without drawing blood, so I just let cheese congeal on enamel. NewWifey(tm) waved a chipper "G'night!" as she was putting on her coat to go out and buy more vino.
5 hours later I think I need to get up to vomit, but in reality I need to get up and go to work. It's 1:30am and I'm holding a razor to my neck. Oh, the temptation....
But I just shaved, if somewhat unevenly. Showered too, although leaning against the wall of the tub. The drive was hell on wheels, literally. Goddam me for insisting on sport suspension, quick steering ratios and a loud exhaust system!
But if I thought the drive to work was rough, it was nuthin' compared to work itself.
Now folks, I've had jobs other than radio in my life. And I've shown up hungover on occassion to those jobs. And it really, really sucked when I did. But nothing, nothing, can hold a candle to strapping on a pair of closed-ear headphones and hearing my amplified voice non-stop for 7 1/2 hours, when all I want to do is immerse myself in a sensory deprivation tank filled with NyQuil.
Ugh. Y'know, I really don't want to finish this entry. Sorry this was all so lame ass. But it's 5:45pm and I still have a headache despite mainlining a solution of CoTylenol and Percoset. And I have to hit the sack - or try to.
But first, I think I'll have a drink.