ATTENTION: This blog is not current. It never has been. For current information please read a newspaper. Or an RSS feed. Or a sundial. All provide more up-to-the minute information than this blog.
For instance, this entry is about Tampa Bay. Do you really think we’d go anywhere near Florida with Katia threatening to backhand most of the eastern seaboard? Four Vines is “wine crazy”, but let’s call a spade a spade – wine crazy and crazy are not even close to the same thing. Okay? Old. Got it?
The above represents the terms and conditions of this blog. By clicking “AGREE” you’re indicating that you have read and understand the conditions, and, furthermore will not call, email, text, tweet, or send smoke signals anywhere near Four Vines Winery and any of it’s affiliates RE: where the bus can be found in Tampa, Florida.
To access the rest of the blog please click AGREE.
Okay, it’s not actually a link – just a little underlined text – but you get the idea. Because I swear if one more person calls me and asks where the bus is in Florida and how they can hitch a ride… (The following has been omitted for legal reasons) AND WE’LL SEE HOW YOU LIKE THAT!
Of course I’m just kidding. I would never do any of those things. I don’t even own a porcupine. And you’re right. Where are my manners? I should be flattered that you want to track us down – even if it is in the past tense. And, hey, I’m not without fault here – after all, if I just wrote this three months ago we would have never found ourselves in this predicament in the first place.
So we both pretty much suck.
Now where was I? Oh right, Tampa.
Here’s the spark notes version: Us. Tropicana Field. Naked.
That sounds wrong. Fun. But wrong. Maybe, I should fill in a few more details:
The city was a mess that night – the way all major sports cities are a mess when not one but two of their three major sports teams have games on the same night. So while we were headed to Tropicana for Rays/Yankees the other half of the city was headed to St. Pete Times to catch a Bolts game. I’m pretty sure both stadiums were empty, though, because the entire population of Florida seemed to be on the 275. Very strongly considered throwing the RV into park popping the Widescreen on the roof and streaming the game for everyone around. But then, there were the 60 tickets burning a hole in my pocket.
So we broke a few traffic laws. Made a few new “friends” on the interstate. And finally, finally, made it to the game.
The good folks over at Premiere Beverage tore through an entire pasture worth of ribs from Mazarro’s Italian Market. Now I what you’re thinking, Ribs aren’t exactly a traditional Italian fare, but the way Mazarro’s did it, they could have convinced me that Italy invented cows. I kid you not. If you are anywhere near the southeastern United States – get some. Now.
And don’t get me started on the wine. Naked. OVC. Biker. Maverick. Sophisticate, Syrah. Anything and everything. There and gone in a blink of an eye.
And that was just the primer. Once we got into the game itself, we’re lower level, third base line, right behind the NY bullpen. Of course, I’m a big Red Sox guy so I wasn’t impressed, but everyone else was eating it up. Okay, I ate it up too.
But just a little bit.
Til Next Time,