Terry 2

Dallas Police, Traffic cops, Radar, Grammy Awards,
Dallas's Finest
When I looked at the guy standing in the doorway, I almost fainted. Goodgoogamugga, this guy was gorgeous.  Most guys are not gorgeous, some are handsome, some cute, many are attractive, some ordinary, but this one was The Cream of the Crop.  He was dressed in civilian clothes, tight jeans to be exact, he was about 6'4", smelled delightful, a Canoe scent emanating from his gorgeousness, and I was pretty sure that I was in lust.  The entire package was marvelous, but those eyes were hypnotizing me.


He asked if he could come in.  "Of course you can." said the spider, me, to the fly, Terry.  "I brought some wine and 7-Up", said The Man. I twirled my villainous mustache and thought very evil thoughts.  I didn't really have a mustache, but I was thinking villainous thoughts.  I freed him of the wine and soda. And then I remembered I had kids. Kids that were still awake. "I have to go put my kids to bed!"  He said, let them come down for a while.  Damn!!!!  I wanted him for myself.  I brought them down, and they started giggling when he spoke to them.  "Okay, boys, upstairs now!"  I got them upstairs and threatened them, you know, so they wouldn't act like monsters.  I told them he was a cop, and he would take them away if they acted badly.  The rules of the night were no talking, laughing, or getting out of bed.  I would go up and check on them in 30 minutes, and they had to be asleep. It worked. They were asleep before the 30 minutes expired.  "You'll have to come over and help me get them into bed every night."  And me too, and me too, and of course I said that to myself. 

Now, about my kids. I was crazy about my kids. However, one of them was absolutely wild and almost unmanageable.  No, wait, that isn't true, he was unmanageable, and his public behavior was generally embarrassing, especially if he didn't get his way.  I had few opportunities to enjoy a somewhat normal life of a single, 20 something mom.  My time at home in the evening after working all day was spent doing mom things for my kids, especially during the week.  On this Grammy night, I was determined that I was going to be normal, drink some wine coolers, watch the show, and try not to stare at this beautiful man.  No kids for a few hours, just Terry and Sherrie.

So, Officer Terry offered to make us some killer wine coolers. And I allowed him to do it.  Standing in the kitchen, watching him prepare the drinks so carefully, was interesting.  I decided he must be a perfectionist; he was a very precise bartender.  He made a pitcher of wine coolers that we took back into the living room and placed on the coffee table in front of us.  And now for the show.

Just about the time, he was taking his first sip, we heard some rather loud growling.  "Where is your puppy?"  He looked a little panicky.  I assured him he was safe, that the puppy was in the downstairs bathroom and not a threat.

"Mind if I turn the lights off?" "Of course not; I never watch TV with lights on."  Neeayaahh, the mood just improved by 1000%.   This would be one of the last years I would watch the Grammy Awards in its entirety, February 28, 1976.

I should tell you about me and wine.  In high school, I lived just across the DC line, where the drinking age was 18, for any type of alcohol.  At least one of my Virginia friends was 18, so we would drive to DC and get beer and wine because it was cheap.  The girls usually drank wine and the guy's beer.  We had several select "fine" wines to choose from.  Thunderbird, the choice of winos everywhere, Ripple, barely better than Thunderbird, Bali Hai, my favorite wine that transported me to the Pacific Islands via the back seat of a Chevy, and finally, Boone's Farm Apple Wine, okay, I had to already be drunk to drink that one.  I liked wine, and I drank it with a straw to speed up the impending high.  I was a good drunk, not mean, belligerent, stupid, or a risk-taker.  It made me feel warm and soft, and it made the world I saw with my eyes appear to be a much nicer place.  And it didn't seem to bother me too much the next day, maybe a teeny headache.  But after I got married and had a baby, I forgot all about wine until I emerged as a young, divorced mom starting over.  And I only drank it when a guy bought it or brought it.  And on this night, I was going to drink some wine coolers with this hunky man.

 Let the games begin.
Wine, cheap wines, popular wines, wines of the Seventies
Bali Hai

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