Double Flee A

The bride and I went out last night for a bottle du vin et pommes frites au Barbette, avec the illustrious robinkisser and a girl who, in robin's temporary absence, is slated to receive his kisses. We were seated on the sidewalk to soak up all the delicious fumes and harley noise (Seriously, guys, what the fuck. Just carry a sign around that says "I need attention."), trying to figure out which wine to order, when who should ride up on his bicycle but Noel, merrymaker, wine consultant, raconteur. Per our request he proceeded to slice the wine list up into neat, easy pieces, recommended a bottle which turned out to be excellent, and disappeared. Rarely does something so perfect occur.

posted by dale @ 9:25 AM