Prompt: You are to write a 400 word memoir piece in which one of the following features prominently:
Wine, coffee, or chocolate. Or, as I like to call it, The Holy Trinity.
Memoir involves crafting a true story. So, please
conjure a moment for us….include dialogue, body language, and/or
conflict. Set the scene using vivid word choices, or perhaps a metaphor.
Focus on the feeling you’re attempting to convey.
I would sometimes travel to Dallas to visit my friend Laura. We would generally hang out at blues bars, go to the movies, and eat tons of good food. This time was different. We got into her car and drove in an easterly direction, into the midst of the Piney Woods, to Tyler. We were on a mission. We were going to a winery with two friends we had met online.
Tyler, Texas is not exactly what one would call Wine Country. As we pulled into the drive leading up to the winery, I could see a few small hills undulating away from the winery, but only one of those hills was covered with grapevines. We ended up sitting on the deck outside, to accommodate our smoker friend Melanie. There we sat, laughing about the last time we had met for drinks, sipping a cabernet laced with ginger and snacking on a variety of cheeses Melanie had brought with us. Melanie was a very animated talker, waving her cigarette in a small circle to illustrate her story and pointing to add emphasis like punctuation. Then Silvia would tell a story of her own, her own hands conducting an unseen orchestra. I have no idea what we talked about, specifically; that is the way it is sometimes. We laughed our way through one bottle pretty quickly, and then started giggling through another.
The weather was chillier than I had expected, and I did not bring a jacket. In the middle of a story requiring adagio, Silvia suddenly paused.
"I cannot think with your nipples going in two different directions!" she said, giggling "You're distracting me!"
Of course we all looked, and she was absolutely right. One nipple was pointing up, and one was pointing in a more southeasterly direction. As I adjusted the girls, it popped into my slightly inebriated state that my breasts had a a Mad Eye Moody thing going on. I thought it, and then I said it. I immediately wanted to take it back; because it was a weird thing to say. But it was also a Me thing to say.
Maybe too Me?
For a second we all looked at each other, measuring. Then Laura snorted, and the rest of us dissolved into laughter as Melanie refilled our glasses.