So we’re at this fancy restaurant, ready to celebrate Valentine’s Day and the waiter (Scott) looks at me and says something like:
“May I suggest a white to start? This unattainable white contains angel sweat strained through diamond mesh into a platinum tureen hammered smooth by three former Presidents and the current Pope. Stored in an oak barrel made from the Tree of Life, bottled by billionaires, and poured into your glass by a scientist or poet. And Bob Dylan will personally watch you drink it.” (Cost for this bottle – approx. $50)
What Scott really meant was:
“We took a bunch of grapes and smooshed them and then they got kind of rotten, and we drained off the alcohol part and that’s the part we pour in this pretty glass” (taken from “Modern Drunkard Forum”)
I replied: “I’ll have a glass of cranberry juice with tonic and a slice of lime please.” Scott immediately turned his attention to my husband who listened intently to Scott’s suggestions. It was hilarious when you listen to it through sober ears.
We did have a lovely dinner. The steak was divine and the company was charming.