Sunday, June 12, 2011

Come Along on Our Fantastic Voyage...

The following story is true.

Last Friday, Dirty and I left San Francisco around lunchtime, headed to the Russian River Valley. First stop, Korbel Champagne Cellars.

Dirty was driving and I was riding shotgun, navigating, dj-ing, and sending text messages.

Dirty handed me her phone and asked me to text her race car friend.

(Let me give you a little background here: Dirty and her dad are racers. They take part in road races, and have lots of racing friends all over the US. At one of her races, she met a man who has a son. She never met the son - Chaca*. They were friends on Facebook and a couple of weeks back it came out that we were going to be in Northern CA where he lives. So they made some plans to hang out on Friday night and left it at that.)

I begin texting him and he tells us that he will "gather his buds and come up with something to do."

We finish tasting champagne, get some food at the original Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, and are trying to decide between more wine and checking in to the hotel. So we text our new friend and ask where he wants us to meet him. He provides us with an address.

A little confused, I pull out my trusty Droid and rub a little google on the address. We determine it is in a residential area and assume it is his home address.

After checking in to the hotel and freshening up, we set the GPS for our destination and settle in for the hour-long ride. As we get closer, I start to get nervous.

You see, I'm a control freak. I don't really like the unknown.

Almost to our destination we miss the turn because there was no street sign and we have to circle around the block. About that time, I mention to Dirty that I'm uneasy. She says that she feels the same.

We're driving slow down the road, looking for the house number, when all of the sudden we see a guy with dreads riding a unicycle, then we realize that he is in front of the house we are supposed to be going to. And there is a guy, not the one we are coming to meet, sitting on the front porch drinking wine.

We are now laughing so hard we are crying. And sitting in our car on the curb.

We get up our courage to get out of the car and the adventure continues. 

Turns out the man on the porch, RickyBobby* lives in the house. He informs us that Chaca is in the shower and pours us a glass of wine. Then he takes us on a tour of the house and introduces us to his ducks.

Once we get inside, Dirty notices some cookies on the stove. She mentioned them and RickyBobby freaked out, "Don't eat them! Don't eat them! Remember we have hippies living here."

Turns out when Chaca told us he would gather up his buds, he wasn't referring to his friends...

So we're all standing in the kitchen trying to decide where to go for dinner when RickyBobby picks up my wine glass and takes a drink.

What?? We just met each other like ten minutes ago...

Everyone finally agrees on a dinner location and Chaca, Dirty and I get into the Black Tie Taxi Cab to head to downtown Napa. About two blocks down the road, the taxi pulls out in front of another car and we all gasp. Then the driver says, "You all have to help me out. My eyes aren't so good."

Excuse me?

Luckily we made it to the restaurant and were informed that we had 45 minutes to sit down, order, get our food, and eat. Otherwise we have to wait a full hour before we even get a table. We opt for option number one and begin our speed dating event.

At dinner, Dirty and I order a bottle of wine and we eached poured ourselves a glass. I take a drink of mine; and even though he was closer to Dirty, RickyBobby reaches across the table and asks for a taste of my wine again.

I'm so confused.

Though, we did enjoy a great dinner!

After dinner we begin our tour of the drinking establishments in downtown Napa. I am not kidding when I tell you that we visited at least eight different bars throughout the night.

Somewhere down the line we stumbled into an open-mic night at a coffee shop. We left RickyBobby there to watch his nephew perform while we went to an ice cream shop down the street. Where I ate the! I'm not kidding - just typing that made me salivate.

Chaca went ahead and got RickyBobby some ice cream and we took it back to him at the coffee shop. He ate it while we were all standing there. And at one point he looked over at me and I started to say something and then he fed me a spoonful of his ice cream.

I'm just going to stop here for a moment to ask: What is it about me that makes men want to feed me? Seriously, this is not the first time that has happened.

After the night, things got a little blurry as we made our way through Napa.

Though I do remember two seeing Morimoto and Dirty arguing with some girls about SB1070.

I would say all in all it was a successful night!

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