Stemware

So, last summer I had dinner with some friends. At some point in the evening it was discussed that a certain male guest had recently gotten rid of all but, like, three and a half pieces of his stemware. This, of course, baffled me because (A) While I’m a recovering pack rat, I cannot imagine getting rid of something so lovely and practical that one will surely need in the future. (B) My religious upbringing was deeply rooted in the belief that one saves and stockpiles in preparation for the Millennium. Jesus comes back - you better believe he's coming over to turn my water into wine. And that party will require some seriously cool goblets. And (C) I kind of have a thing for stemware and can't imagine getting rid of it no matter how many times I move or get divorced. Not that I have amazing stemware – nor do I have an amazing collection of sexy shoes – but, in my head, I have oodles of both. And a killer Margarita machine. And a Dove chocolate fountain next to my bed.

But I digress…

I ran into said dinner-friends more recently at the Equality Utah Allies Dinner. Somewhere between those two encounters it was decided that I would blog about Stemware. Totally random. But also totally cool as it allows me to mix it up and has not one thing to do with Homosexuality or Mormonism. Thank God.

Stemware. Where, oh where, does one begin? First of all, when drinking wine the kind of stemware you use really does make a difference. I, of course, thought this was complete bullshit until I had dinner at Rivers and the Sommelier gave me and the friends I was with a very cool, private wine tasting party. He had us taste the same wine in different glasses and there was a marked difference in flavor. Riedel glasses, I believe, are the best. And cost a lot more than the funky ones from Pier 1 – which are way better to serve at a party where glasses get broken all the time. That way you won’t hate drunk cousin Dumb Ass for breaking an $80.00 glass when she decides she must sing from atop the piano that you don’t own – you can just hate her for being a dumb ass.

Stemware. Good.

Lipless glasses. Very good.

Huh.

That’s all I got.

Okay, that’s not at all true. Years ago when I was in a show at Connecticut Rep – a friend in the dressing room told me that her boyfriend told her she had perfect martini glass tits. This meant that her tit fit perfectly into a martini glass. I remember thinking that martini glasses were far too pointy to be proud of that fact but that it was way better than fitting perfectly into a champagne glass.

From that day on, every time I see a martini glass I want to put my boob in it.

The End.