Here Comes the Neighborhood

When I first moved to the “Gray Neighborhood” it was sketchy to say the least. At 6pm sharp, professional women made their way to their corner. Any other woman not covered in Timberlands, jeans and a hoodie was followed by cars and asked her rate. One night I came home, walked up the five flights only to find a very large smelly man sleeping in front of my door. I gingerly opened the door, stepped over him and locked the door behind me. Stories you do not tell your parents. However, with the exception of the “Garden of Eden” eviction, things have much improved this past year.

Last night, I dropped into Wine Heaven, the store whose free delivery policy helped turn my art show into an event. Even though today was the “storm of the century” I needed to stock up on my Cotes du Rhone. It was cold out. It was windy out. Blistering. And the liquor store was packed. Let me set the scene for you: Bright golden lighting. A “Wine tasting until 8pm” sign on the door. Upon entering you were greeted by a very charismatic and wine knowledgeable men offering you a Chardonnay, A Spanish or a Pinot Noir. I thought that this was brilliant. Get people in the store and immediately put a drink in their hand. It felt festive. Each person tried each wine, chatted with the staff and then searched for a bottle for the evening. The kicker was: in the back of the store, one of the employees was blasting Metallica from a small CD player.

Wine Recommendation: Castillo de Almansa, Spanish Red, 2000. $12.


~ by Cybel Martin on December 10, 2005.

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