#985 Wine Not

So I was at this local food and wine festival not long ago. I must say. Very well done. Good bands playing, all kinds of local wineries, some fantastic restaurants, and upstairs an area where there were lots of microbrews.
And surprisingly, very few fights. You’d think with all the alcohol flowing there would be issues. Especially since the place is so crowded, it’s almost impossible not to spill something on someone. A drink perhaps, or a smear of barbecue sandwich.
But no, such minor accidents were taken in stride and never seemed to develop into a major altercation. But there was that edge. Especially between wine and beer drinkers.
Beer has the unfortunate tendency of invoking high school type behaviors, when testosterone-drenched boys vied for chugalugging supremacy and then physically fought to blow off all the steam.
Rowdiness, vandalism and fights were all wrapped up in the smell of hops and malt. And smell invokes the strongest memories.
Wine, except the fortified variety, was never a popular favorite amongst the fighters. Too high-priced or sophisticated perhaps, the stemware too fragile for mug-toting mesomorphs.
The other fight-preventing thing about the festival was it didn’t include a lot of youngsters. Older men tend to be less inclined to prove their virility. The kids back home evidence enough that their gene factory is in order.
But there were a few such on the prowl. And coupled with the single or recently divorced women there were bound to be a few violent near misses. I myself nearly encountered one.
An obviously inebriated lady spent far too much time touching me when we were introduced. A youngish man, by my terms at least, who appeared to be ready to attempt to harvest her inebriatory offerings, gave me the evil eye.
Very territorial.
Uh oh, I thought, he’s looking for either a fight with me or a f- f- fun time with this lady. I left them to their drunken devices. He clutched a beer glass, his hopes, and his fading youth.
I savored my wine.
I’ve reached the age of wisdom.
Where you see it before you step in it.
America, ya gotta love it.