Speaking of Mediterranean women
On Friday night we splurged and got Greek take-out from Papa Cristo’s. After Sam got his cookie, we ordered our sandwiches (gyros for Will, falafel for me) and briefly debated eating in so Will could have a glass of their house wine. We decided to carry out after all, and the man who runs the counter gave us each a thimble-sized cup of wine to drink while we waited.
He gave wine to a pregnant woman without blinking.
God, I love the Greeks. What American would do that? But he knew that a sip was not going to hurt the baby, and he knew that a Sicilian woman would know that. (My heritage came up when he ran my credit card, which is in my maiden name, but I think that was after the wine. Eh, whatever, doesn’t matter whether he knew I was Mediterranean.)
I would have kissed him but the awesomeness of the situation didn’t even occur to me until we were halfway home.
November 23rd, 2009 at 5:11 pm
Ah Papa Cristos! I am sooo homesick for Los Angeles. When I was pregnant I was all ready to be a rebel and have a sip of wine here and there but the pregnancy made even the smell of wine disgust me.