by Administrator
13. February 2009 08:38
The insanity of the evening behind me, I began my end of shift routine. Running sales reports for wine, reorganizing the cellar, enjoying my two fingers of Lagavulin at a dim corner table with my tired wine key and a half cocked bartender. Valentines Day is always a madhouse in the business. It starts early and ends late, but everyone makes some good coin and expensive wine flows like water. I remember a picture I took on that particular night, a trash bin filled with empty bottles of Opus, Insignia, Scarecrow and Latour Mags. "The most expensive garbage bag in history" was the appropriate title. Bottles that 4 hours earlier had been under lock and key, now so easily reduced to trash. Such is the nature of fine wine, it had fulfilled its intent.
I had sent pretty much everyone home and the GM slid out earlier in the evening, so save for a busser and myself the restuarant was quiet, finally. I remember this particular nightr only because of what happened when I made my way to the door to lock up. I stood for a few seconds in the dark foyer, glass of scotch swirling in hand, watching the snow lightly fall on to the silent city streets that just a few hours prior had been alive with romance. It was those stolen moments that I enjoyed the most. After a hard fought night in the weeds, reflecting on the evening. As I got out my allen key to officially end the night, a lone gentleman approached the door. He could clearly see I was getting ready to lock up, but what kind of person would I be to deny a lone man a drink on Valentines day? So with a smile I invited him in and escorted him to the bar. No words were exchanged, but you could see the gratitude in his tired eyes. I made my way to the back bar and and asked him what brought him out so late in the snow. He just smiled and softly replied, "A good glass of wine. You choose." I laughed a bit to myself and grabbed a bottle of Mencia (Spanish red wine from Bierzo). I still had a lot of work to do so I grabbed one of our nicer Spiegelau glasses and poured him a deep helping. He wrapped his hands around the glass and hovered over it as one would a warm cup of tea. The kind of embrace only a fellow wine lover would understand. I explained I was just going to be sitting at the end of the bar finishing the day, and to just give a shout should he need anything else. He just nodded and went back to his perpetually twirling glass of wine.
Not moments after I sat down, another person walked into the bar (reminding me to go lock that door). A lone older woman with a snow flecked pink coat and silver hair. "Oh, are you closed?" she asked. I just smiled and replied "I guess not." She sat a few seats away from the gentleman I served a few seconds before, and pointed to his glass saying "I'll just have that". The man laughed and said, "Get your own glass! This one's mine.". She smiled and blushed a little, so I again reached for the Spiegelau and let loose a good pour. As I sat at the end of the bar I watched the two remark every now and then how much they enjoyed the wine. They had no idea what it was, but loved the flavor. I decided to just set the bottle in front of them and let them enjoy a solitary valentines day on me. They stayed for the better part of an hour, laughing and chatting more and more as time went on. Finally, noticing the increasing intensity of the snow outside, the woman remarked she needed to get a cab home. I of course called her one and the gentleman at the bar asked if she would like to share it. Slightly flush, she agreed. The both thanked me quite enthusiastically and made their way to the waiting yellow Crown Victoria. I always loved seeing people leave that content.
A year passed and another V-Day descended on us. We had about 450 on the books for the evening (which would be my last Valentines at that particular restuarant), and I was busy polishing bottles and updating the wine list. As the evening wore on, I was sent to a table because the customers were looking for a particular wine that the server was unfamiliar with. I immediately recognized the rosy cheeked older couple from our quiet Vday evening the year before. Holding hands they both beamed as I approached the tableside. I didn't even need to ask what they were looking for. The love they found over a bottle of Mencia, one more time.
I love my job.
