Serial killers

Peggy and I ate at Sweet Basil last Friday, a restaurant I really like. Peggy ordered a French something red wine. Burgundy maybe. I ordered an Italian cabernet. Shortly after she ordered it she expressed regret because she doesn’t really like French wine. And I know what she means. But the two glasses of wine came and mine tasted (and smelled) like rubber. I’ll pretty much drink anything but this was just plain awful. Peggy loved hers and I did something I’ve never done. I sent it back and asked for a glass of what she was drinking.

The waitress smelled my wine, agreed that it smelled like rubber and brought me a new glass. Of Peggy’s wine. Um. It smelled like rubber. I ABSOLUTELY HATE SENDING THINGS BACK. But   called Allie (our waitress) over again and apologized. She of course apologized and returned shortly. It turned out that she had given Peggy my Italian wine and me her her French wine. Talk about tooth sucking. I guess I called that!!

My meal was good. Beet salad, a filet and a ravioli that was right straight out of this world. Short ribs and marrow. Oh my god, it was the best thing I’d eaten in Vail. (And that’s saying a lot, the chili here is pretty noteworthy).

But then, as our decaf coffee and herbal tea arrived these 2 guys sat down next to us. Creepy with a capital K. Very drunk, they started talking to us in a way-too-familiar way. Leaning over, moving their chairs closer, asking personal questions, wanting us to come skiing with them. I was alarmed. Then the older, creepier one asked if we watched Criminal Minds and started talking about serial murderers. Peggy was taking all this in without much reaction but after we paid and before we left the restaurant she pulled me aside and said “I’m frightened.”

I was too. I still am. But then she left to go back to LA and I am left here with them lurking around every corner.

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