"You mean you don't remember the wine celebrities?" Sonja was shaking her head. She worries about me when I remember as little about a weekend as I remember of the last one. Apparently there was a wine festival going on I was not invited to.
"They were seated a couple tables away from us at the restaurant we had dinner in on Saturday. There were six of them. You kept checking out the blonde. They drank a dozen bottles of wine before they headed their separate ways to entertain the wino crowd. You fucking admired them."
I do admire people who can handle their booze and their dope. I am a Johnny Rotten man, not a Sid Vicious man. Unfortunately I could not remember any wine people. I was hoping Sonja might jog my memory if she supplied me with the right bit of information about our dinner in the company of the gods of wine. "Did the blonde one remind you of Anne Murray?" I asked.
Sonja looked into the picture show in her mind and said, "She did a little. She looked a little like Anne before she got her punk rock hair-do."
The blonde probably did not look like Anne Murray at all. Sonja was just trying to arouse me. It was starting to work. I liked Anne best before she got her Sid Vicious hair-do.