Mistress Matisse's Journal

A link to the new column, about how poly people don’t get toaster-ovens.

I drank a fair amount of very nice wine last night. Max and Puck and I went to dinner at Armani’s house, which was just lovely, and he showed us his wine cellar, and we cracked some seals. Now, I like wine - champagne, especially. But I don't really think much about it, or talk the whole wine-talk thing while I'm drinking it. I pretty much just knock it back and say, Mmmm, that was yummy, and then pour myself another glass.

Max and Armani are both thoughtful wine guys. And as Max looked at Armani’s cellar – a cooled storage room about ten feet by six feet – I could see lust in his eyes. Thus, I foresee a home-improvement project in our future. A small section of the basement – ie, the dungeon – may have to be converted to wine storage. Amusing to have one vice - excuse me, I mean, sophisticated taste - have to give up a bit of space to another.

Labels: column, Max