?-Sept-00: Cabañas La Conchita

Michael and I are sampling Mexican wine. At the tienda we paid the equivalent of $12 for it, which we would never spend at home for this kind of adult soda pop that we drink mainly to cop a buzz. Michael pulls the cork from the bottle of Baja Californian Cabernet; we hear a sigh from the neighboring cabaña, where two young Italians, apparently a mated pair, have taken residence. The girl is about my size and I might offer to lend her my bathing suit. Thus far I've seen her gamely frolic in the ocean fully dressed in flared trousers, t-shirt and athletic shoes. Meanwhile, Michael and I choose to torment our Italian counterparts by pretending to drink something finer than vino tinto de Domecq:

"Chateau Lafitte 1980! A superb year for merlot! Ah, Mâcon-Village 1994: an exquisite find!"

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