Just Regulars

It was rainy all day. I went for Vietnamese soup instead of for my run, and decided to take the car to work--10 blocks away. All the spaces in the back were taken, so I parked on the street in a 2-hour spot--I'd have to remember to move it.

Inside, it was slow as we transitioned from coffee bar/retail wine store to wine bar. We dimmed the lights, changed our online radio to something cooler (Estelle), and turned it up a smidge. We sold a few cups of coffee, got prepared for the evening we all guessed would be slow, and had some time to chat.

The owner decided we should do a little tasting, said we need to bond a little. He said it was a full moon, that it felt like a weird night, that everyone was in a weird mood. I said I wasn't, and he said the moon had the opposite effect on me, that I would be normal tonight, for a change. It was the rain, I think, not the moon that set the tone. We tasted a white blend from France--"light and buttery up front, but with a spicy, dry finish." Are they just making this crap up? Maybe, but when I taste, I'm starting to be able to call it--but with the whites, I'm never sure.

I'm getting better with the reds though, I'm crazy about Petit Verdot, and Malbec blends now--big and juicy. And last night I did sell a red I love to one of my Saturday regulars. He came in just after a 12-hour flight from Tokyo visiting his fiance. We talked a lot about Japan, how baffling things are there, and how cool. He was our only customer for an hour or so, tasted the white with us, then I sold him the last bottle of the Vietti Italian Barbera, guaranteeing he would love it. I've got to quit doing that....After the taste and a cup of coffee he was fading from the jet lag--bet we'll see him on Saturday for his usual coffee fix.

At 6:30 the bartender started scrambling--she saw parking enforcement out the window. After assuring me I didn't need to move my car, that they'd never ticket us in the rain, she got a big fat ticket. Thankfully I didn't listen to her, remembered to move mine to a meter, and had six minutes left. Whew. Still I scrambled for quarters and dashed out in the rain to secure my spot until 7 pm--free parking time. This is why I usually don't drive....

Then a woman wrestled a stroller up the steps and inside. I recognized her from Saturday and Sunday, when she came in for coffee. She looked distressed and said loudly--"Does anyone in here have Alaska plates?" Of course that's me, and she said, almost tearfully that she had hit my car. She was shaking and upset--I said no big deal, we'll take care of it later, sit and relax--I don't get worked up about these things, and she was all right at least. I sneaked out to look at the car, and, no-kidding, she hit it EXACTLY where I scraped it a couple months ago. Not much further damage, although I haven't looked at it in the daylight yet. I said I'd give her a call, but probably, we'll just let it go, I already need to get it fixed....She settled down, met her friend for coffee and chatted for an hour or two. I got her info of course. Maybe I shouldn't have moved the car after all....

It did finally pick up a little, if only with regulars. In the back, a table of four women, moms, who are making that table their usual Thursday stop. Usually they head to dinner elsewhere, but tonight, they got a couple flatbreads and a cheese plate and stayed all night. They drank bottles and bottles of wine, then, when we practically had to kick them out, they asked for cigarettes, as if they could smoke them inside. I overheard their conversation about raising children, managing their images and elusive happiness. We clearly are a part of their coping time away from the men and kids, a place where they let loose a little....

As always on Thursday, the important food lady and her man sat at the bar. I haven't caught where she works yet, but I have learned that she is a chef and food connoisseur and we are apparently proud and happy to be one of her stops. Her man picks out their wines, typically they try three or four. They're happy to discuss the intricacies of the French bleu we serve in comparison to our domestic, and any other food or restaurant gossip going around. They're great but after all the recent discussions at work, I got a little nervous when I noticed her watching me, serving, opening and pouring wines....maybe I don't know what the hell I'm doing. The owner says soon we will get a big critic in, who could make or break us--we'll never get our first impression back. Anyway--they come in every Thursday and drop a lot of cash.

Our single guy came in, well, he's not really single, but might as well be, he never has his wife with him. He's a Wednesday regular, but decided to try Thursday after we spoke to him at the pinot tasting Tuesday night and talked up Thursday. (Lots of pinots Tuesday--seven actually, higher end. My favorite was from Monterey, or maybe I'm just loyal to whatever comes from closest to home). Anyway, he likes to chat with the bartender, get chummy with all of us, and tell stories. He recommended several restaurants to me, which I'm anxious to try. He hopes we don't get too popular, else he'll have to find somewhere else to go every week. Apparently it used to be the Irish pub down the street, every Wednesday, for years and years and years.

The bartender I work with each Thursday is an interesting person--down-to-earth, a little rough around the edges, in her late 40s. She has been through some hard things. She got some relief from her demons, she says, after she gave up drinking for 15 years (she's back now), left the Catholic church and "came out." She sculpted a very cool gargoyle named Balthazar and brought him in to watch over the bar. It doesn't matter that the owners keep hinting he doesn't belong, she's now got all the customers on his side, and I think he's staying. He is great, and represents how she affects the place--they both keep it from becoming too pretentious and perfect....Balthazar has such a pleasant look on his face, not a scary gargoyle at all. I can't help from petting his head when I'm dusting, he has a great feel. Anyway, she also finds a new name for people she likes--and you don't get to pick it. Our food girl is now named Roxy--not even close to her given name, but I have to say it suits her. Me? I'm Earthynia (Earth-In-EYE-uh). It's sticking--at least I'm answering to it.

I was fading at about 8 pm, and I would probably never stop or ask the kitchen to make me anything, but she decided to split a salad with me--amazing--I have to have food to keep working! It was the best spinach with fancy cheese and truffle toast. Truffle toast--incredible. We took turns quickly eating in the back hallway, there's no space for breaks and we don't really get to take them. Those laws about 30 minutes for six hours and breaks every two? They mean nothing. Six to eight hours on your feet, unless I'm managing, then I make sure everyone takes a break and has something to eat. Again, Norma Rae....

A new, young, beautiful couple came in to look at the menu--I greeted them and they decided to stay. They've just moved in a few blocks away, and I can tell they'll become regulars. The owner came out and hung with them quite awhile, having them sample some new meats and cheeses we have. They've both lived out west and know San Luis Obispo, although by his accent he's a Londoner. We welcomed them to the neighborhood, they are now part of our community.

Earlier, my young, Christian co-worker had dinner and some wine with his artsy girlfriend. He comes in every day, that's why he started working on Saturdays with us. Since he's going to come in anyway, the owner convinced him, he might as well help us out and offset the price of his coffee/wine consumption. He works for a big mega-church I once attended for a short time. He said the policy is they aren't to drink where they're likely to be seen by church members. Please--he's working in a wine store! He laughs it off, but I would have had a big dilemma about that in my church-going days--probably why church still works for him. Ah--he's young yet. We are destined for some great conversations he and I. The two of them are adorable of course...living their easy Christian lives where everything makes sense....

So we ended up being pretty busy. At the end of the night, when we sip a little wine while we finish up, people sometimes get a little philosophical, and someone might tell a story. Last night it was the owner. He told me about some DC clubs and restaurants I need to try, where the soul food is good and big people like him are comfortable. As always, he thanked us for our work, asked us our impressions of the night, and wanted to hear our feedback.

He says regulars won't be enough, but that we're lucky to have some already.