flights of fancy

Last night Dave and I ate dinner in a wine tower. A wine tower? you say. Let me explain.
We were trying to meet up with my friend Crysta and her guy Ric for dinner, who are in town from London. Anyway, communication was misfiring on all cylinders so Dave and I just ended up going out to dinner alone. We went to our default fancy downtown restaurant, Purple Wine Bar, primarily because it was close to the lounge where Crysta would later be, and more importanttly because we had a gift certificate burning a hole in our pockets.

Seattle has been mega chilly and rainy, two major deterents for Saturday night outings. In our optimism, we figured we could waltz in and sit down, no reservation needed. Plus we got there at a nerdily early dinner hour- before 7. I totally forgot that theater-goers flock to Purple because it is smack dab in Seattle's (cute) theater district. (I should know better- that's where Cookie takes me and Becky before shows.) Anyway, the hostess informs us that it's going to be an hour wait, but we could hover around the cramped bar area in the meantime.

The place was hoppin', service was middling...but then...Dave caught the attention of our friend Chris, who is Purple's self proclaimed "wine guy". He was like "So you guys looking for a place to sit?" and he led us up this spiral staircase that circles about 12 shelves of wine, into his office. The fact that his desk/table was covered with boxes, opened bottles, and paperwork was no matter. He just shoved it aside and set two places.

Purple is the only place in Seattle where I'm treated like a VIP. Often times when Chris is working, we don't even look at menus, he just orders up the best shit. Which is great if you're looking for wine, because their list is daunting. Last night we did order, but it was more like a trivia game.
Chris: "What would you like tonight?"
Me: "Lamb burger?"
him: funny look
Me: "Chopped salad? ....um, grilled halibut?"
Chris: "Excellent choice! Grilled halibut it is."

The wine tower is where they keep their supply, so staff were coming in all night, probably wondering who the hell we are, and pleasantly asking us to scoot over so they could get some old vintage down. Needless to say, we ate and drank like Kings (and Queens) up in our little tower. That Chris, he's a real gem.

After stuffing ourselves, we braved the pouring rain and found Crysta and Ric the Zig Zag Lounge, so called because you have to zig and zag through all these random staircases to get there. Good times all around.