Ah yes... Once again it's that time. The last Friday of every month - Troy Night Out. Always a ton of preparation, running around, and of course... Stress.
My wife's shop, down in sunny Troy, NY is a favorite haunt for the shopping folk. I know. I'm the guy in the back room serving them wine. I never really appreciated the the role of bartender before. Never thought much about it, really. In hindsight, I guess that's just what I am. I hear the interesting conversation, get approached to be the "judge" in friendly bets or the occasional spat. Sometimes I get to stand uncomfortably close to some creepy couple that wants to "hang out" with my wife and I. I watch the grazers who just eat for what seems to be an eternity.
Like watching an accident, you can't help but look while one lady with her McCain/Palin campaign button hanging heavily from her long-since discolored, yellowing hat
removes her dentures (while standing in line, at the table) in order to more efficiently cram a fistful of onion dip into her mouth. Every time I witness it, I thank the sweet lord that I get to glimpse part of the fish-white underbelly of the open house culture. God, I wish I had a hidden camera to document this stuff. It's like flipping through the tv channels, expecting Geraldo, but instead accidentally landing on "World's Most Shocking Childbirths".
Don't get me wrong. I love to help out Kate, and I pride myself on doing a job that no one wants to do. It's an interesting way to be a fly on the wall. You overhear, and see the strangest things. I love it.