Every girls needs a hero. Someone in a metaphorical cape to rescue her from some precarious situation.
I found mine a few weeks ago when I was sitting perched on a forklift, stalled out and staring at a large macro bin of grapes that somehow needed to get from our cold room at work to our crush pad for our grape stomp event.
I sat on the forklift for a good five minutes staring at my phone, debating on whether or not to call him for help. I have never been good at the damsel in distress thing. I’m stubbornly independent that way. But I had a sneaky suspicion he would come to my rescue. On one hand, I didn’t want to bother him on what would inevitably be one of the last Saturdays he would have free before harvest.
On the other hand, he has a great smile and talking to him always made me feel wonderful.
I called. He came. He saved my event and my sanity in the process.
After the people had cleared off the crush pad, following rave reviews of how much fun they’d had, he and I cleaned up the gigantic mess of stomped Cabernet Franc that had been created.
He hooked up the cellar stereo, put his iPod on shuffle and we raked pumice from the half barrels that had been used for stomping to the sounds of Foster the People. He watched me on the forklift again, patiently instructing as I dumped macro bins of pumice into the large dumpster on the edge on the property (I got the forklift right this time) and 3 hours later it was clean.
I thanked him profusely for his help, telling him there was no way I would have been able to tackle this on my own. I made small talk for the sole purpose of not letting the conversation end, asking questions to which I already knew the answer, hoping he couldn’t pick up the apprehension in my voice as I tried to work up the nerve to ask him for a beer. Coming to my rescue again, he threw out the suggestion of heading to the Brewing Company, sending a rush of relief and excitement through me. My nervousness turned into a huge smile as I agreed immediately, grateful to continue spending time with him.
Almost another 3 hours went by, as we laughed and talked, over food and blonde ale. He had dinner plans he couldn’t get out of that night but asked if I wanted to get a post-dinner drink. I said yes and grinned like an idiot all the way home, and I waited for him to call.
We went out again that night and have been together ever since.
It’s wonderful. I have seemingly floated through the last month.
Last Saturday, we both got done with work, wanted to enjoy the little bit of the sunshine that the day had left so we walked the vineyards in south Napa. We stopped at the pumpkin patch to look around, take a few photos and enjoy each others’ company.
It was a perfect Saturday in October.