Marilyn, a friend of my friend, Ali, from New York, and her husband, Ren, own Paradigm Winery, a well-known establishment here in the valley. She invited me to dinner at Grace's Table, a restaurant in downtown Napa, along with her sister, Dawne, and their friend, Kim. At 5:15 p.m. My late afternoon snack time.
Yet, I was wrong to expect a calm Monday night. Before we even looked at the menu, Ali had ordered us a bottle of sparkling (all the way from New York!). I barely blinked and the bottle was empty, my glass still full (theirs very much not). We then opened a bottle of 2008 Elizabeth Rose Sauvignon Blanc, Marilyn and Dawne's own label, to accompany our meal.
The conversation, much to my surprise, ranged from drinking to dating. These ladies sure know how to live. And their social lives put mine to shame. Apparently dating in Napa Valley is much more lively at their age.
Not that they wanted me to feel left out. At 8 a.m. this morning, my phone rang at work.
"Sherry, it's Dawne. I have information for you."
By information, she meant details about the "cute, young guy" that she sees at her gym playing tennis. Who I just so happened to have already met at a friend's barbecue nearly a month ago (wow, have I really been here that long?). Yes, this place is really that small.
Dawne proceeded to give me the full low down - his name, place of work, a recap of his past two years of life experience.
"You two would be so adorable together!" she gushed. Like I didn't already have enough Jewish mothers looking to set me up.
Then she told me about yet another potential boyfriend, a divorced Irishman who owns a wine shop. Well, at least I have options.
The day flew by at work and before I knew I was at bocce. And my phone was ringing. It was Dawne again. I missed the call and listened to the voicemail.
"Sherry! I'm here with [guy #2 - divorced Irishman] in Yountville and we're going to have a drink. Where are you?"
And so, I found myself at 8 p.m., a mere 12 hours after the first phone call, in Yountville driving through town with my new friend, Dawne, looking for one of my future boyfriends, with no luck (she had lost him between the phone call and my arrival).
Instead, we ended up at the bar at Redd, where we had dinner and drinks (one for me, two for her, of course - my hero) and chatted with our neighbor, a high school friend of the chef. ("Are you single?" she asked him. She's certainly a woman on a mission).
It's not a lifestyle contained to only those my age - everyone here seems to live on a constant holiday. Tuesday is the new Friday. And so is Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. Even at retirement. Especially at retirement. No fear of getting older here - it just means more time to drink.
And apparently a better selection of men to date.
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