My brother has posted yet again over at Khansella. This is twice in four days - i'm freaking out. Check out the photo galleries of his apartment, it will make you thankful for whatever you're living in now. I have to give him credit, he's made the place look like a page from an Ikea catalog - a slightly burnt Ikea catalog - but still Swedish non the less.
Other than that - it's pissing rain here in Ontario. This is apparently left over from Hurrican Rita. There are about ten cases of empty beer bottles filling with water in my back yard. I wonder if that is a mosquito risk?
We hosted two nights in a row at the house - and i'm freaking tired. Friday night was the house warming. I bought too much beer and now I have to have another party so we can finish it off. My nice guests brought a lot of wine, lots of good wine. Saturday night, me, Laurie, Krissy and Russ drank three bottles of it. Not the Beringers Founder's Estate though - keeping that one for a special night. Speaking of keeping something for a special night - no, not that - that's long gone - well, here's a story:
The Panty Dropper
I was at this wine distributor doing an install. On the last day of the job, it was just me, the owner’s wife/office manager, and a couple of the data entry girls in the office – the owner and salesmen were out selling. Anyways – I’m up in the server room working away. The phone rings and it’s the office manager. She says “Hey, we’re going to sample some wine – do you want to join us?” Never being one to turn down alcohol, I make my way downstairs to the main office. The data entry girls are running back and forth between the office and the warehouse bringing bottles of wine and glasses. The office manager says to make sure they hide the bottles from the security cameras. Bottles are opened, crackers and cheese appear – more bottles are opened – good times for all. The conversation gets randy – what do you expect from a bunch of middle aged women drinking wine at two in the afternoon?
The topic becomes “…do you have a girlfriend?”. I didn’t at the time, had a girl who would eventually become my girlfriend – both nothing concrete at the time.
“Do you cook?” I’m asked. I do.
“Ok..” says the office manager “..hold on a second. She runs from the office to the warehouse and comes back a couple minutes later holding a nice looking bottle of red wine. She hands it to me.
“Here’s what you do. You cook a nice dinner, something simple.”
“Then, “ she says “…you open this up. It’ll go down smooth……and so will she!”
We never spoke of it again.