Let's Be Friends...
Who: Nicoleta and Giorgi
When: March 2nd, afternoon
Where: Giorgi's in-progress restaurant
What: Giorgi finally meets someone likable, and Nicoleta gets free booze. Basically,he's her dipping sauce bitch they were meant to be friends.
( based on a mutual love of wine.~ )
When: March 2nd, afternoon
Where: Giorgi's in-progress restaurant
What: Giorgi finally meets someone likable, and Nicoleta gets free booze. Basically,he's her dipping sauce bitch they were meant to be friends.
( based on a mutual love of wine.~ )
How she felt? That was the clue. Nicoleta awoke from her slumber around 1PM, two hours earlier than usual. Naturally, she wasn't feeling very well and the chocolate cake from yesterday didn't do much help either. She tried to do everything in her power to get herself back to sleep, including trying to suffocate herself with a pillow. All in all, she gave up at around 2 and decided she should bask in the wonderful absence of sunlight out in the goddamn fucking cold.
After gussying up and feeling a tad bit better, she indifferently put on her dark gray trench coat, gloves, a dark pair of pants, and the first leather boots she could find. Her curves shied underneath the buttoned coat but her bosom held out a conspicuous curve. Frankly it is quite hard to hide them.
Ah, but she underestimated the benign mother nature and was punched square in the face by the fucking cold climate. Nicoleta shivered but found herself too lazy to take a few steps back into her house to reinforce the layers of clothing. After hopping into the car, she drove around aimlessly where her whimsical mood wanted to go. Suddenly, during the directionless trip, she decided she wanted some alcohol--strong alcohol.
The first thing she saw around the corner was a restaurant and so she parked nearby. Once she was outside, she was too distracted by the cold to notice how unfurnished the restaurant seemed to be from outside. Holding on to the collar of her jacket, she struggled to get in and then leaned against the doors. Sourly and absent-mindedly, she muttered, "Ah fucking stupid weather is as shitty and bitchy as a fucking thirteen year old on her goddamn period."
Ah wait. There was supposed to be a lot of chatter to hide her rude little quip. It was quiet. Once she got to her senses, she looked up and noticed that there were many... empty seats. There was, though, another guy within the vicinity with quite a dorky looking expression there. "Uh."
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Giorgi spun the stool around so that he was now facing the culprit and one brow perked up in thought. A woman, in every sense of the word, nose still red from the freezing cold, stood against the doors. Her face read confusion from what Giorgi could tell, although, he figured his expression couldn't be much different.
The Georgian smiled at what he considered to be his first customer. He hadn't even opened the place up and people already wanted to get in. That inner pride was only growing larger by the minute. "Gamarjoba. Hello." He stood up, easily sliding his hand into the pocket of his corduroy pants that matched almost too well with his navy sweater vest. Taking a few steps closer, he made a few other observations. This woman was stylish, even in cold weather. Good. She looked cold though, and for good reason. It was cold. His eyes moved to the windows, noticing the frost etched around the edges.
"Come. Sit down. I'll fire up the heater." Hoping the woman would take him up on said offer, Giorgi maneuvered slightly passed the large wall of wine, to the strange American heating contraption. A fireplace would be much more practical, as well as eclectic. Perhaps he could talk his way into installing one of those instead.
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"Is today the grand opening or something or does no one want to come in?" Surely Nicoleta meant no harm. She meant to address the snowstorm but its appearance in her sentiment was more subtle than she expected. On cue after a little click, the gears worked and warmth began to usurp the dreaded chill. Feeling a bit more comfortable, she sighed as she leaned forward and admired the wine bottles on display. Nicoleta scrutinized the labels and the brands, a tug on the end of her lips creased up.
Impressed, she exclaimed, "Ohh. God you have a few that I've been trying to look for! You... are open right?" It was silly to ask but the absence of the mirth and chatter of a crowded restaurant made her feel unsure.
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One, two and...click. With a few tweeks of his memory, Gio successfully turned the heater on and headed back into the room. A twitch surged in his brow as she mentioned the possibility of nobody wanting to come in. Of course people would want to come in. The public would love this place. Once it was decorated and ready at least.
"It is...still in progress. I suppose this makes you my first visitor." Giorgia looked up towards the woman's face only to realize that her attention seemed to be entirely directed at the wall of foreign wine before her. And then she spoke. And he was taken aback. A large and amiable smile appeared suddenly and excitedly. Before he knew it, he had moved into the interior of the bar, and stood in front of where the woman sat.
"For a lover of wine, I am always open." A friendly wink was sent her way before he looked back at his selection. "Let's see. There is the Akhasheni and Mukuzani, as far as my favorite red wines go. I have white too, but..." He paused for a moment, glancing back towards her with a raised brow. "What do you prefer? And if you don't mind me asking, your name?"
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In a shitty mood or not, Nicoleta would never pass an opportunity to drink wine. A little bit of vitality traveled through her body due to the anticipation, loosening her up to appear with a more pleasing countenance. "Are you?" She snorted before giving a whimsical, despairing sigh. No doubt, melancholy still hung around the hinges. "I've tried Akhasheni before from a Georgian tavern in Romania. Damn good stuff."
Intently, she looked through the man's head and concentrated on the wine brands again. "I've tried about... let's see----one, two... five---well at least fifteen of those bottles all my life. Don't be impressed though. I'm trying to beat a friend who sipped over 25. I've always been so picky. Surprise me with your best, will you?" She laughed dryly before resuming, "And my name is Nicoleta. Yours?"
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As he ascended, he went over each bottle in each row, attempting to decide what it was that he would bestow this wonderful Nicoleta. "Ah, yes. I am from Georgia myself. I guess you could say I am 'fresh off the boat'? Just got here about a month ago." He had reached the top row when the perfect bottle of red wine jumped out at him. "Ah. Here we are."
The Georgian made his way back to Nicoleta and reached for two glasses below the bar. As he uncorked the bottle and began to pour, the sweet scent spread into the air. "Oh, and don't worry. For an avid wine lover, this is on the house." Another courteous wink and he handed one of the glasses to his new friend.
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She watched with curiosity. Being a bartender, she wondered if this pleasantly peculiar man will add something to her drink. "Georgia? Oh, that cold little place?" She laughed with a hand on her upper chest, "God, I knew that greeting was familiar. I thought you are Russian. Accent, y'know."
Her eyes were licked with delight as she smiled firmly at the glass of wine. Graciously, she held the cup of wine and then smelled it. Ah, the aroma...
Oh that boy is charming; she'll like him. "Lovely---a friend of mine would say." Without hesitation, she took a sip. The liquid rushed down her throat like an ember, leaving a warm and suave feeling in her mouth. "Damn," She muttered as she parted her lips from the rim, smiling like an enchanted child, "This is damn good. Where was this made?"
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Finally, he let the crimson liquid flow into his mouth, closing his eyes to treasure the taste. The reaction from his drinking partner enlisted his eyes to open again. He loved this question oh so much. "Straight from Georgia of course. Where some of, if not all, the best red wine is from. In fact, I think I actually brought this bottle over on the plane myself."
He was beginning to like this girl. She knew what she was talking about and had the taste of a true wine lover. His hope for America was growing by the second.
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Her eyes became sharp as she thought about... Ivan. Stupid. Stupid big-nosed giant.
His reaction to the wine humored her, causing a small amused smirk to grace her face. "Georgia? Makes sense. Honestly, for a long time, I've always thought of Georgians as a bunch of miserable people with nothing to do. Ah, but this wine is one of the finest. Almost as good as Romanian wine."
She exhaled a breath of nostalgia. "Nothing can beat the wine my papa bought me. Dunno the brand or name though. I've looked for fucking years and I still am."
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"They are indeed. Which makes me wonder how Ivan was capable of becoming a psychiatrist of all things." He rolled his eyes in his own bewilderment and gave another dismissive sip of wine.
His ears perked up and his eyes widened as she went on about Romanian wine. He remembered when he had first sampled some, a far away time in Georgia. It had wound up in his house somehow. He had kept it stashed away in his room. It quite well could have been the first foreign wine he had tasted, and it intrigued him.
"I could help you find it, dear. Or at least try. The loss of such a wine that you detail is a most unpleasant thought." His fingers began to circle the round top of the glass in his attempt to recall the wines of his past.
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She retreated her hands away from the desk to cross her arms. Suddenly, after contemplating for a short time, there was a surprising change in voice. "Well he's alright sometimes. I suppose."
Nicoleta followed up by chuckling dryly. "That'd be good. I appreciate it." Though there was a subtle hint that would infer she may have given up. For some time, she thought about stop trying altogether lest she gets a larger dose of nostalgia. "But hey I gotta leave soon and I still don't know your name."
Then she shrugged loosely, "Unless you want to continue trying to be mysterious and cool."
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"Ah, you can call me Giorgi, as it is my name." He winked. Mysterious and cool were not really his thing. He was far too vibrant for such terms in his book. Nicoleta seemed to have the cool thing down though. She was a lover of wine which was enough for Giorgi. He sipped the last of his wine down quickly, knowing well that he could fill the glass up again on a whim. "And if you ever do need help with that..." Placing his hands on his hips, he struck an almost heroic pose. "You know where you can find the wine prince."
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