Merlot, For Sure

My voice was tight and wavy at the same time, straining to gulp down some air if I spoke more than a short sentence at a time. But I wasn't really saying more than a short sentence at a time anyway, because we were in the awkward small talk phase of the date. And the talk was especially small right now because I had never met her before. That might have explained the clammy hands and wavy voice. This was a bon-a-fide blind set up. Not something I loved the idea of. But Maggie was really nice, and I thought she was beautiful. So maybe that was making me nervous, too.

At this point, somewhere between talking about the dreary weather we had been having and beginning the "what do you do for a living" exchange, the waiter asked if we wanted anything to drink. Secretly content with my glass of water, I deferred to her.

Maggie?" I gestured to her with an open palm and a raised brow.

She asked the waiter if they had a wine list. His eyes rapidly searched the table. Embarrassed, he apologized that we didn't already have one and quickly left to retrieve a copy.

"Do you like wine?" she asked me as the waiter left for the bar.

"Yeah, for sure," I lied. "Super good." I had tasted wine twice before. One time was at a fancy work party two or three years ago, and the other... well, I might have only had it once before.

"I have not been able to get away from whites recently," Maggie said. Then she rattled off a few of her favorites. She seemed to be a sort of connoisseur.

"White sounds good to me, too, right now." It felt good to share a common plan, even if we didn't really share a true love for white wine. We were connecting.

The waiter returned with two wine lists, placed one before each of us, and then asked us what was jumping out at us.

I peered down at the paper. White, white, white, where was the white? So many kinds to choose from but nothing to indicate what color it was. I saw a lot of writing in what I presumed to be French. My two years of high school Spanish was failing me.

She ordered a sauvi-something-or-other. I panicked. I couldn't even pronounce whatever she had said. But even if I could have, I couldn't copy her. I wanted to look confident and sure. So I didn't ask the waiter for advice either.

"I'll have a glass of Merlot," I said.

I should have just copied her.

I tried to ignore her eyebrows briefly dipping, questioning my order. But I knew. I had ordered a glass of red wine.

I nodded and smiled as I ignored her describing her job to me. Banking or accounting or taxes or something. I couldn't afford to pay attention if I was going to have any sort of coherent explanation as to why I ordered a glass of red wine seconds after saying I was in the mood for white. 'I like white but couldn't help myself when I saw they had Merlot.' Nope. 'I'm going to order a white a little later.' Probably not. Maybe I just needed to own up. Not a big deal. Don't make it a big deal.

Just before the waiter returned with my little cup of ignorance, Maggie recognized someone from across the room and stood up to greet her as she came over to our table.

Her friend smiled and gave her a big hug. "How are you, Maddie?"