So after a drama-filled week for Greg that included endless schmoozing at his trade show and even an emergency hospital visit for one of the people he was traveling with, he and I were finally able to spend a quiet night together.
And it was very nice.
Except for the part where I offered him a drink. I'm not a drinker, you might recall, but I do have guest liquor in the house. Unfortunately, I never check up on the liquor. (And the thick layer of dust covering all of it should have been our first clue that this offering-Greg-a-drink thing wasn't going to work out very well.) So when Greg decided to make a gin and tonic, we discovered that 1) all the tonic was flat and 2) there was just a tiny splash of Tanqueray (I may not drink, but I'm still a brand whore) in the bottle anyway. So he opted for the Kahlúa Mudslide, which someone left here after my last party. Which was a year and a half ago. Let's just say the stuff doesn't keep very long.
Next up: the wine cellar. I have enough bottles of wine in the house that I actually bought an attractive wine rack to display it all. There were two open bottles, and when I reached through the cobwebs to pull them out, we discovered they were both filled with wine flakes. And apparently wine flakes are bad. But the third time's a charm, and the sole unopened bottle of red wine was drinkable. So the evening was saved. WHEW.
Greg had wanted authentic Chicago pizza, so I ordered my favorite deep-dish for us, and we collapsed together on my couch in a pile of arms, legs, hands and tomato-based goodness. And when he discovered I own Pirates of the Caribbean on DVD, he got very excited and we decided to watch it for our evening's entertainment.
You have to understand that Pirates of the Caribbean is one of my all-time favorie movies—mostly because it's based on my hands-down all-time-favorite amusement park ride. And also because the movie ROCKS. And maybe a little because I can spell Caribbean without looking it up. So when Greg 1) knew most of the dialogue by heart, 2) made intelligent, observant comments about the cinematography and 3) kept praising the gorgeous score, I knew ours was a match made in heaven—albeit a 10-hour match because he had to leave early this morning to catch his flight home.
In any case, we had a lovely evening, Greg's cabbing his way to O'Hare as we speak and I'm off to another glamorous day at the office. On today's docket: A chat with the company president about my oft-discussed promotion that never seems to materialize. Wish me strength.
Oh—and here's a grainy picture of the two of us the night we met in Montreal: