The Sharknado of Wineries

There’s a reason why most wineries do their tastings after the tour. The usual tack is to take the group around, explain all of the stuff about growing seasons, aging barrels and spotlessly clean tanks and THEN get people silly on wine. You know, get them silly…sell them wine.

However, the winery that Chris and I visited took a different strategy on Saturday, possibly because the winery was also playing host to a wedding and two receptions which were keeping the staff plenty busy. We did our tasting first, and our bartender gave me a couple tastes more than I should have been given; if I’d been offered another ounce, I’d have had to refuse it out of fear of being “that girl” on the tour. The one who won’t shut up, touches things she’s not supposed to touch, and actually answers the guide’s rhetorical questions. Little did we know.

By the time the wedding parties cleared out and the tour started, almost everyone on the tour was pretty far gone. In fact, I was the only female on the tour who hadn’t become “that girl,” and I wasn’t doing too much better. I just kept smiling at Chris in that way that says “I have SO many things to say about this, but I am so drunk that I can’t telling if I’m whispering, so let’s wait til we get in the car.”

One woman interrupted so much that her husband asked her if she worked there right before the tour guide asked her (very nicely and jokingly) if she wanted to guide the tour. Another man just kept patting his wife on the shoulder as if to say “maybe you shouldn’t have almost put your mouth on the tank tap as if to drink out of it.”

As the comedy ended and we settled up our tasting and tour bill, Chris and I stepped out of the double doors that led to the parking lot to hear a man in an Affliction shirt yell “let me drive, fag! I’m not even drunk!”

No word on whether he was with one of the wedding parties, with the bridal shower on the back porch, or just there because the winery is in an otherwise dry county.

“This is the Sharknado of wineries. Like, it’s not so bad that you can’t handle it, but it’s bad enough to be funny.”

(e)tv: Summer Brings a Lack of Wookies

I’m a bad goth chick, as I have never had the time/money/will to commit to going down to Atlanta for 4 days for Dragon Con. I don’t travel well, and I work a lot. In truth, had the recession not hit me this year, I probably would have made it because my sis lives in Atlanta now, which would at least allow me to save on hotel money. Instead of actually going to Dragon Con, I went down to hang out, do whatever, and do a little people-watching.

Despite Atlanta being only 4 hours away, I hadn’t driven there in my 13 years of living in Nashville. I didn’t realize it was so close, and my fear of driving over Mont Eagle was based mainly on childhood memories. In reality, the drama and slope of Mont Eagle only lasts four miles and isn’t really that bad, unless it’s raining or snowing.

I got to Atlanta late Saturday afternoon, and my sister, her friend, Elizabeth, and I took a cab over to the Marriott Marquis (chosen for it’s easy lobby-viewing) to scope out the array of storm troopers, anime characters, and Princess Leias. There was a strong Wolverine representation, which is fine by me on account of the “sideburns” factor. While I stood around saying, “is that a guy? if that’s a guy, he’s hot….if not, never mind,” my sister developed a crush on a gaggle of dudes dressed as Halo characters. Maybe it was Gears of War. I suck at first-person shooters.

This would be a good time to mention that, in addition to Dragon Con, Atlanta was also hosting a Black Gay Pride gathering, an Alabama/Virginia Tech game, and a NASCAR function of some sort. Where else can you witness dudes in burgundy visors (backward, of course) posing for pictures with Predator or a four-foot-ten Gene Simmons?

After the Marriott, we went to a sushi/Thai place, hit a random book store, a bar called The Graveyard (hearse out front? check.), and my sister’s regular bar. I had a couple random blue drinks, which is my fallback whenever a bartender doesn’t know how to make a Blue Valium.

The next day, we had brunch and then went over to little five points. I know, I know. It’s touristy and cheesy, but I had never been and I needed to witness Junkman’s Daughter at least once. We also went to a couple of “thrift stores,” which were mere like vintage stores. For those of you saying, “what’s the difference?” I say, “about 40 bucks.”

After confirming that I was, in fact, mentally prepared to witness Ikea on a Sunday, we went over to witness the seething humanity at the local Ikea. It was fabulous, but in a sort of “I don’t need to do this for at least another year” sort of way, as Ikea is a lot like Disney world, but with crazy Swedish names instead of rides.

Everybody was pretty worn out at that point, so I headed on back to Nashville to put together some video:

Click here if you can’t see the embed.