Eva's Wine Cellar

<staring at Joe, tears in eyes>

Check? What check?! Are you kidding? I'm so damn glad to see you again, I could care less how much wine you've had! C'mere and give me a proper hug ... or even an improper one, I don't care. I've missed you!!!

<assorted hugs and smooches>

Well. You know, Cabernet is easy enough to replace. And that Malbec had been here forever. I never could interest anyone in it, so frankly I'm glad it's gone. As for the rest of it ... pffft. You've done me a favor, you know. No telling who or what might have taken up residence here if you hadn't constantly been dropping by. I'm not going to charge you one red cent, but I would really like it if you would promise to drop by regularly and share some of your writing. I'll permanently reserve that back table for you.

You hear that, everyone? From now on, that is JOE'S TABLE.

So, then. Will it be the Pinot Noir?

I'd love to try the plum wine! I know Joe prefers reds, but I'm partial to whites.
Besides, you should keep your birthday present. Save it for a special occasion.

Here's a couple of clean glasses. Will you pour?

Here's you glass. Do you want one of the plums from the bottle?

I'm going to need an extra bottle myself. I just remembered I had two slices of pizza warming in the oven. Sad to say, they are barely recognizable as pizza as they are black as Kentucky coal.

< Aswas stands up from his kneeling position behind the counter and stares at the group as they hug. A familiar smell hsngs in the air, one that takes him straight back to his student days in that pokey little bedsit where the middle aged landlady used to let him off the rent when he was especially nice to her. He shuddered at the memory and then it all came flooding back.....burnt pizza....a sort of mushroomy burnt tomatoeyness..
.....happy days, apart from the rent subsidising fumblings, of course.

He suddenly remembered that he had his mouth stuffed full with the exquisite hand made chocolate liqueurs that he'd found beneath the counter....and everyone was now staring.
Pretending to bend down in order to pick up the broom, he quickly located what looked like a rather ordinary leather bag, and quickly spat the chocolate goo in to a compartment before zipping it closed.
He then stood up again, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

Eva handed him a full glass of red, her eyes trying to avoid the brown dribble that now made its way down his chin.

Someone had righted the jukebox and was in the process of seeing if it still worked. A few kicks and slaps later, the thing lit up and sprang into life. A familiar crackling guitar intro broke the silence. Chuck Berry.

Joe bit in to some pizza and made a polite mmmm sound, whilst looking for a bucket, and CI quickly took the opportunity to grab Joe's laptop to book a trip to Antarctica via Stonehenge.

Eva started to sway to the music, avoiding eye contact with the pizza laden Tsar, who was headed her way. "Oh, by the way", she asked nonchalantly...."did anyone happen to find my new Gucci handbag?"

"Oh, thank you, Eva, much very, as I say when I have had one glass too many. I'll make it up to in several ways. First, I will scrape the wax off that table, my table. I am so honored.
<He takes out his knife and begins hopelessly poking at the three inch piles of candle remains. >
" I'll been meaning to bring a candleholder or two down here, but I never seemed to remember when I was buying the actual candles."
He gives up and sits next to c.i. to see what he is doing. Tsar hands him a glass of the plum wine. He takes it. Anything to get the taste of burned mozzarella out of his mouth. Ptooie.
"I'm sorry I missed your birthday, but somehow I missed the memo. Did anyone here know it was Tsar's birthday?"
Everyone glares at Tsar.
"We hate to be left out of the opportunity to sing Happy Birthday in public places while someone else is suitably embarrassed."
Joe stands up.
Everyone thinks he is about to sing.

Joe(but you never know about Joe)Nation

Shhhh Joe, you know we have a surprise birthday party here for Tsar, shhhh, Eva has it organised and she's had me and the cat running around everywhere that's why the kitchen looks like a brothel..

No, she's not changing the décor !!

Oh, I just read where you "pretended to sing" darn, I let the cat out of the bag!!

Off to get a lot more candles.... (runs out the door real fast)

There's a clattering and a banging and the sound of a dustbin rolling away. Foundy comes back in holding an elderly gentleman by the hand. "We collided in the lobby" she explained sheepishly.

"Come in old boy, come in", Joe shouted, "I am just about to exercise my lusty larynx to entertain this motley crew of layabouts and piss-artists. The more the merrier." He smiled graciously.

"I erer I just er er heard that er, you know, I heard er er", the old man stammered, "that I er might er er get a good feed and er er a wee drop, you know,bless your sanctified little hearts, a dram or two, spendius is the name but my friends call me spendi, and er if it is true I thought I might be welcome to partake, after saying Grace of course, and have a chair in front of that lovely roaring fire you have over there".

Oh, there it is!

<finds new handbag hanging on the coat rack under her coat...pulls out bottle of cologne, starts spritzing the air...trying to get rid of the odor of burnt pizza>

Now, let's see if I can reach Jacques.

"Yes, well isn't the presence of this place improved by the presence of yourself, sir?"
<There's some scraping sounds as himself and several others drag one of the cushioned benches over closer to the fire and find a small table to place nearby>
"Now then, there you go. There be one of the waitstaff by to inquire as to your wishes as to food and drink, meanwhile let me pour you a small drop of
craythur from this flask I always seem to have either in my pocket or in my hand."
<pours a nice short one in a fairly clean glass.>
"Right. So cheers and let this be only the first of many."

Joe does not drain his glass.

Joe(it's going to be a long night)Nation

"Alright then, a song."

They didn't say what a confounded racket came along with the free eats and booze. And this fire is a bit hot. Will somebody pull my chair back a bit and fetch the cake tray over?

"Say what?"
<Joe considers pushing the bench MUCH closer to the fire but then considers the depth of dotage involved.>
"I'm going to sit over there at my table, Spendius, spend some time staring into flames. They say when some do that they see all their sins."

Joe(It's a good thing it's early)Nation

Gulp!!!

I feel another song coming on.

Joe(maybe after you're asleep.)Nation

That's a good idea Joe. You carry on. Don't mind me.

Do you know Swing Low, Sweet Chariot?

I do know 'Swing Low, Sweet Chariot' but it's a song better sung by a group. Going to go work on getting all the wax off that table and out of my ears.

And a bit of breakfast.


Joe( It's still early here.)Nation

Never drink orange juice Joe. What's on the plate is even worse. A plaque boost. And toast is a genteel form of fried bread.

No wonder you can't run so fast.

Now now, spendi. Let Joe enjoy his breakfast. After all, what usually passes for a traditional British breakfast isn't that much healthier. So. What would you like this morning?

Healthy or not, I'm having a chocolate croissant and some fresh raspberries. With cafe au lait.

You can give me eggs, any way you want, fried, poached, scrambled (a bit like my brain at times) but not raw and definitely not chucked at me

I enjoyed the song, Joe. But it reminded me to ask you something. Why do you think there are so many desperately sad, even morose, Irish songs?

<settles into wing chair by the fire and waits for brilliant answer...>