It's beginning to look a lot like rehab...

Due to the generosity of a local radio station, McCloud and I ended up with tickets to one of the showings for Warren Miller's new film at McCaw Hall on Friday night. Now, I haven't seen a ski movie (let alone gone to one in public) since high school when I still pretended to be moderately interested in snow sports that don't involve whiskey and hot tubs. Not totally sure of what to expect, my only guess was that I should probably dress up and I should certainly have some delicious wine beforehand since the movie was showing at the big opera/ballet house.

After snatching McCloud off the street downtown, we headed straight for the preferred happy hour location near the City Center with a glimmer in our eyes and a slight growl in our tummies.
Perfect scene. Crisp fall day, blustery wind. Each of us in a charming seasonal outfit and fully accessorized- striding toward the certain salvation of wine and 1/2 price appetizers... until we found the doors to be locked.

what?? locked?! we pushed, we pulled.. the doors were definitely locked. I'm sure the abrupt end to our purposeful arrival was somewhat amusing the sizable crowd standing next door waiting for the bus...

Fortunate for us, it was 4:23pm, which meant that we only had 7 somewhat embarrassing, cold, windswept minutes to wait before we could realize our happy hour dreams.

Once inside we engaged in moderate gluttony. 3 glasses of vino each, and a conservative sharing of (life changing) beef tenderloin taco concoction and some decent mushroom risotto. DELIC.

Once sufficiently buzzed we tromped down the street to the pre-show aspect of the film. After procuring another glass of wine and a prime spot on the railing to people watch, it was extremely evident that we were the only ones NOT wearing fleece/soft shell/puffy vests so we downed our wine and headed for our seats. The movie was great - Ridiculous footage of gorgeous mountains and pretty people rocketing down them... Frankly it was almost enough to allow skiing to replace my currently preferred hobby of "apres ski" which, admittedly involves MUCH cuter boots.

Even with all of the inspiring athleticism, McCloud and I bailed at intermission and headed to a current hot spot/(fake) speakeasy closer to home. Three delicious frothy gin drinks later we rolled ourselves home at an extremely reasonable hour. (one perk of Daylight Savings is feeling like I've stayed out all night, when it is in fact only 10pm. Though that could also be a side effect of showing up at bars before they open..)