Wine Bus

Saturday morning I wake up to a pounding head (thanks for playing Beirut with Mickey's you dumb ass), and a very dry mouth. I head over to Safeway, buy a handle of rum (you should see the looks that gets at 8:30 in the morning) and head back to the house to shower and roll up. I pack my day trip bag (a backpack that includes items like dental floss, a toothbrush, two flasks, mixers, the camera, and a full change of clothes) and head over to Nini's where I put down a foundation of biscuits and gravy. Katie makes me a to-go double strength mimosa and I'm on the road.

I get to City Tavern at 10:30 and the guests are already accumulating to get on the shuttle bus for Marc and JK's birthday party. The plan is to hit three or four wineries in the Napa valley. The crew is large, Masars, Marc, his new significant, JK, Reich and his girl, Topher and Ya, Vic and Alla, Sutton, and a whole host of other people are there. It's shots in City before the bus loads, mimosas on the bus along with croissants and muffins for the people who actually feel that it's important to eat before drinking.

I feel it's very important to eat before drinking, which is why I eat a brownie on the bus ride before we get to the first winery. Once there, I'm told that drinking from my flask on their premises is a no-go, but that's alright as I can't wipe the smile off my face. They have a cool dog named Pepper there that chases rocks, so I amuse myself with that while everyone else drinks wine. On the way out, the guy behind the counter gives me a glass with ice for the ride and we're back on the bus.

This is where things get interesting. The bus is load, I'm pretty well faded between the mimosas, rum and cokes and brownie, and we're all listening to music and enjoying ourselves. However, when the bus pulls up at the next stop, our location for lunch, there's a problem. It seems that in the wisdom of planning the trip, the lunch location is a winery/picnic grounds and the place is full of families. As I step off the bus, the substances combined with the complete surreality of the scene around me thrusts me suddenly into what I can only describe as feeling like a shroom trip...that feeling where everyone in your group is the same and a part of you, and all these other humans in their weird family/picnic/Saturday outing family time resemble aliens who frighten you.

In the bathroom, surrounded by strangers, Marc is talking about pot at the top of his lungs. The other patrons are clearly not amused. Outside, I decide i need to get as far away from this place as possible, so I go with everyone else across the street to the deli for a sandwich. In line, I remind myself to think about how a normal person might act in this situation and then act accordingly. It involves me standing in line and not saying anything to anyone, partially afraid that I won't be able to get anything but gibberish out. Back across the street, we start eating lunch and the manager of the winery comes out and asks us to please not eat outside food and drinks there. I didn't think we were that obvious, but when I step back from the group I realize that in this family picnic setting, we look like a bunch of hoodlums, drunk 20-something year olds with our own food perched at the very corner of the establishment's boundary.

I feel badly about this, so I leave the group and return to the bus, but not before taking a walk through the less inhabited portion of the winery for some "me" time. Back on the bus, we head to winery #3 where the weather has gotten a bit chillier, making it feel like a winter scene. Here, the group spreads out a bit more as people explore the grounds, do some tasting and some walking. At the end, we have to hold the bus up so that Topher can go back into the winery and give one of the employees Boyars's number...she was too shy to do it herself.

Winery #4 is in Yountville. For those of you that haven't been, I'm not sure that I'd recommend it. It's a rich, yuppy town. The beautiful girl with glasses doing the tastings for us had a ring on that made me wonder how she lifted her hand to pour the wine. The only place I could find to eat was a French cuisine restaurant where I got some escargot. The rain holds back as we finish the drinking, and once back on the bus, all sorts of strangeness ensues, as might only be possible with 34 people playing drunk musical chairs to talk to different people. My night almost takes a turn for the worst when this weird guy Johnny who had been attempting to make conversation with me at various points during the day asks Scott J. specifically to trade seats with him and I get trapped by the window. Johnny asks me if I've ever "met someone that you know you were supposed to meet." I'm getting creeped out. I tell him I haven't and he says that he's that guy. I tell him I need to get something, jump out of the seat and move quickly to the back of the bus.

It's a good move...Reich and his gf are back there as well, with an empty seat and a one hitter. I show him the burn and then blow out through the sweatshirt move. It's not incredibly effective, but it does do the trick, and we spend the rest of the bus ride home laughing at the poor bastards in the front of the bus who have no idea what's going on.

Back in SF, I promptly leave the bus group in the Marina, shower and re-prepare with Za and then head over to T's place to hang out with her brother and his Canadian friends, who are pretty much hilarious in every sense. We hit a bar and then I introduce them to the crepe stand. So from my 8:30 am Saturday wake up call to my 3:30 am Sunday arrival home, I don't think you can argue with the success of the wine bus. Cheers to Marc and JK for putting it on. Pictures are: me with T's new puppy Hudson, Reich and gf at the back of the bus, the bus, our hoodlum status at Winery #2 and the full group at the end of the evening. Next up, Glace's birthday.