Embarrassable Me

A good thing I can derive from my work is free-flow of the best wines available at any cellars I happen to stop by.

Last night I was stranded at a wine bar to review their so-called exotic seafood salads. The appointment was actually at 1830 hours, but the person I should've met didn't show up till 1900. So I ordered a Ruffino Wine from the heart of Tuscany to wet my dry throat from struggling in a traffic jam battlefield. As I sipped the chilled golden liquid having fruity aroma, I was convinced how life every now and then tried to rub my back as telling me to shake off those sorrows away.

A few gulps later, the German chef I should interview finally showed up. As he presented me with 5 exotic salads from all over the globe, I couldn't help but recognize how he looked exactly like J. My heart skipped a beat. I didn't know if that's just my mind playing tricks on me or it was merely a wishful thinking. I had met him several times before when I stopped by at the hotel, but I had never been this up, close, and exchanging more than 2 sentences with him.

However, they do have the same brown eyes and brown hair. Only the chef doesn't have any grey hairs ... yet. They have the same hairdo too. They even have the same way of talking. The same gestures. The same expressions. To shake off the nostalgic thoughts, I just kept on drinking while trying hard to pay full attention to his explanations.

By the time it was a wrap, I didn't have any idea how much I drank that glorious medium dry with earthy flavors and a suggestion of pear, fading to a crisp and balanced finish white wine. My head was so very light, but I had to keep conscious to be able to drive home safely. For that reason, at a traffic light, I texted 2 of my good friends telling them how heavily drunk I was. One was sent to the right intended person, but the other went to an F&B Director of a 5-star hotel who happened to have the same last name with my friend's.

I wish I had never been born at all.