paid to drink

it's tuesday afternoon, it's beautiful outside, and i've just seated myself kitty-cornered from the wine-tasters at barrique's in middleton. whatever job that is that allows a group of three to sit around a table with six bottles of wine and body postures that suggest they have absolutely nowhere else to be is the job i want.

i am trying not to keep looking at them, but i so want to walk over there and ask how in the world they got to that place.

meanwhile, i am still in the midst of the job search. i spent two hours online this morning, scoping out the madison employment scene and discovering that i ought to have taken courses in nursing or urban and regional planning if i wanted to have an easy-in to the job market here. alas.

but wine-tasting, oh it so hard not to look at them. especially because i'm listening to fleetwood mac's gypsy and the song just makes me want to twirl around like a little ballerina dancer, but i feel that because i've already peeked at them a few times, their eyes are already on me if i move even a little in my seat.

as a side note, have you ever seen the cover of john denver's definitive all-time greatest hits? i mean, it's hard for me to feel like he understands what it means to "thank god [he's] a country boy" when he's posing with his shaggy hair, big, round glasses, and gold bling hanging down on his little skinny-boy bare white chest. unless that's the part of cowboy world i just haven't yet encountered ...

okay, i'm rapidly losing interest in my own blog. seriously, whoever this guy is over here at barrique's has maybe the sweetest job ever. i think he's on hi 7th glass of wine presented by yet another party of two who are trying to woo him to their wines. maybe i'll just start drinking at barrique's and see if i get paid for it, too.