Several weeks ago Live Longer and I signed up for a Prosecco tasting. A little frazzled from a long day at work, I was running late. “Don’t worry, everyone is just enjoying a glass of champagne and chatting. We haven’t started yet,” Live Longer advised me. I arrived to find what Live Longer said to still be true. “When are we starting the whiskey tastings?” I asked. “Wrong event. That’s next week,” Live Longer replied. I should have known better, whiskey and sushi is a fishy combo.
We sat at the kotatsu – Japanese for low dining table – and enjoyed our Adami Prosecco – the latter is Italian for sparkling wine and, at a tasting hosted by the maker, is not to be confused with champagne. I left our kotatsu to chat with some friends at a neighboring kotatsu. I returned to find 1) I was a few glasses behind the rest of the table and 2) we had a new guest joining us. “We squoze (slang for squeezed) him in, hope you don’t mind,” Live Longer told me as I squeezed in between her and our chef friend, Smeller.
As I attempted to catch up on the pours and, on one occasion, was skipped – I’m guessing it is because I rudely beckoned the libationist as opposed to politely raising my empty glass – Smeller was taking in whiffs of me. “You smell really good. Really good,” he told me and then told Live Longer, while sniffing my hair, “She smells really good.” “I’m sure it is my shampoo and conditioner. Although, it could be my perfume. I’m wearing Paris Hilton and she, surprisingly, smells good,” I replied. “I think someone likes you,” Live Longer told me while gesturing toward Smeller. She may be right. But I wonder, is the old saying true, “Is the smeller the feller?”