humor, relationships

Gum Drop Daddy

Photo: Jared Alexander
Photo: Jared Alexander

The best advice I ever received was to always take gum (or breath mints), if offered. Wait. What?You don’t take candy from strangers. But, doesn’t it sort of make meeting strangers fun? You can’t tame this butterfly.  But, this post isn’t about that. Or is it? I don’t know. Just follow along.  And well, yes,  I did offer a breath mint to a total stranger on my flight yesterday. He was dressed nice, suit, tie, etc. How bad could he be? Yes, I’m a fan of the clean cut man club. You know, the type that bathe, more than once a week. And shave. Uh, ever watch Mansions & Murders, sweetheart? Yes, but not every tall glass of water is out to murder his family in their mansion. So, still a fan. Sexy and perfectly manscaped. Sigh.

Anyway,  this hot little gum drop slept pretty much half way across the nation, as we flew high in the skies, seated in between my son and I.  Head back against the seat rest. Mouth wide open. Breathing all over everybody. So, when he awoke from his drool-less slumber, I thought I’d chat it up. Oh no. He wasn’t having it. Dag nabbit. Dialogue, dialogue… I need to instigate a conversation.  So, I offered a mint, to break the ice and he slightly joked, “Oh, no thanks. Unless you’re trying to tell me something,” as he smiled. His sexy little smirk. Ahhh… why is he staring at me all weird? Maybe I should stop batting my eyelashes in his general direction. Damn his freshly shaven, strong jawline.

4567c-img_6565About an hour to go on the flight. And cutie patootie is ordering a cup of noodles and bloody mary mix. Without the alcohol. And a Cup O’ Noodles. Hmmm… ok, they were out of tomato juice. I see the alternative, choice of champions. Sarcasm. But, now he’s so loaded up on sodium, he might poop salt. Dammit. Less attractive now. And then the coughing begins. Why?! Why, the bad food choices?!! There were other healthier options. Like vodka. And, he’s still not taking an interest in me and all my hotness. Hmmm… no biggie. But, I can’t find anything wrong with him except his terrible sodium-packed snackery. And his possible, common cold outbreak, he’s about to unleash onto the airborne vehicle because he doesn’t cover his mouth with his sleeve. Or hand. Or maybe with a nearby napkin. Hey hambone, let’s try the nearby napkin!  So, I give up on this chance at love, because we’re only a few short stints from landing and I realize, for at least two, of the four and a half hour flight, he’s the jerkoff that’s been coughing and hacking in my general direction. While snotty children were screaming in the back and running up and down the aisles. Ah, but his kindly tailored suit and chisled bone structure, all handsome and yearning for my touch … You sure you don’t want some gum?

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Bonzai Wine Jump

 So, didn’t know this before; But, apparently, there are wineries in Ohio. Being born here and having gone to school off/on here, you’d think I would have stumbled upon this -at least, serendipitously- at some point. But nah, my grape just grappled with it. Grape grappling… new sport?  Maybe this is the, “at some point,” to which I was referring? Hmmm… food for thought. I like food. And wine. And grapes. And grapes make wine.

First, we roamed into the Debonne Winery. They’re tasting room was closed, but it was still such a beautiful drive through the grapevines.  The wild child in me wanted to scream bonzai from the vehicle as I bounced out into the fuity-fields and run through them. Naked. But my mom said no before I could even get my hand on the door handle. How about, just the bra and underwear? No go. Her exact words were, “Don’t, even think about it.” I still don’t know, how she ALWAYS knows. Crazy mom mind-reader. Maybe I can just ditch the flip-flops? No. Keep everything on your person. Fine… As I deviously dip a naked toe onto the deck, overlooking the harvest scuttlebutt.  Even though the tasting room itself was closed, we were still able to order a couple of flights to taste,so she got the sweet ones and I ordered the dry ones. There were a couple winners in those airborne tasters. So, we grabbed a bottle of her choosing to go. Hey! Wine dealer!  Bottle of silly juice, STAT!
 After driving through Amish country, we finally hit the Firehouse Winery in Geneva. Don’t get too excited girls, I was looking, but didn’t see one hot fireman sans shirt. *sniff sniff Did find one in the rafters though. This was pretty cool winery-ish spot, because there was a big body of water. And wine. Did not see a field of grapes anywhere. But, got wine. So,  I did order a flight and had a salmon burger. Yummy, with wine. Oh, and this time, I dive rolled out of the car toward the lake before my mother could stop me…  But the gravel parking lot did a doosy on my soft and supple epidermis. Dammit. Ok, so not all my ideas are good ones. But, at least I won’t need to exfoliate for a while!