Fresh, tart, and delicious when you are in the store in your last week at work, buying in a "three-stack" of a new, inexpensive wine as one last favor to your favorite salesman. Customers tend to shy away from French sauvignon blancs, opting instead for the blandness of California versions or the bright and almost obnoxious grapefruit effects of the New Zealand style. However, at $7.99 and with a subtle French crown on the label, this one might work.
Speaking of work, I felt I had to pay a visit to my peeps (sp.?) at an old blog, and show them the below picture first, because -- well good grief, because there seem to be quite a few of them there. I had no idea my Pond's cold cream saga still helps pull in 1,100 page views a month. What I showed them, below, is the result of what I have been working on for the last three years. It's done. My tell-all divorce novel/memoir. This was what I was talking about, when I said I had finished "It" and that now my posts here might be a bit unpolished, as I relaxed for a while and just wrote what I felt like without overmuch proofing and fussing.
Funny story: last night I was telling my gentleman friend that I agreed it was important, when you are leaving one job for another, to "play till the whistle," that is give of your best up till the time you punch out on your last day. Another salesman had told me this motto, as he continued to take orders and tell me of three-stack deals up until 5 o'clock on his last day. He was an ex-school athlete, as you might have guessed. Anyway the attitude was noble and sensible, I thought and I still think.
But my gentleman friend always has to have the contrary point of view. "Whose whistle?" he barked after a moment's thought.