Z: Your birthday was fun this year, but not what I expected.
She: How so?
Z: When you said we were going to be painting with wine for your birthday, I thought you meant we’d get so drunk we’d splash wine on a canvas.
She: And waste the wine? Are you kidding?
Z: My bad. I also didn’t really think through the whole “Where’s this canvas suddenly appearing from?” thing.
She: I’m so happy you finally took an art class with me. I love the Painted Cabernet. I can’t wait to go back.
Z: I have to admit, that was more fun than I thought. Is there always wine and loud music at art classes?
She: Not always.
Z: And are all our friends usually there?
She: Not always, though maybe they will be now that I got them in touch with their inner artists.
Z: Are you kidding? Did you see some of those paintings?
She: Are you kidding? Did you see those paintings? They were incredibly good.
Z: In what way?
She: In every way. I can’t believe how talented all of our friends are. I had no idea.
Z: Uh, you still don’t.
She: What are you talking about?
Z: Our table was the worst in the room by a landslide.
She: Not true. And if it were true it would only be because we have more experience with the cabernet than the painting.
Z: Think that’s why Dr. B painted a beer bottle instead of a champagne glass?
She: Clearly the wine helped set his hidden artistic side free. I think the beer bottle was an artsy interpretation of the lesson.
Z: More like a boozehound interpretation of the lesson.
She: The thing that really surprised me was how anal you and my sister were about painting.
Z: That was a surprise?
She: Everyone always assumes you’re so carefree, but if they saw you paint, they’d realize how uptight you are.
Z: I’m just good at following directions. When the instructor told us where to start the curve of the champagne glass, I wanted to make sure I had the right coordinates.
She: Nothing says artsy like coordinates.
Z: I get my art-on in other places. I’m not a natural painter. You’ve seen my handwriting. With a jittery touch like mine, I’m just happy I didn’t get any acrylics in my chardonnay.
She: You still managed to paint two champagne glasses that actually look like champagne glasses.
Z: Sure. But next time, I’m bringing in my own black velvet canvas. That would be awesome.
She: I’m sure they’d love that.
Z: And it will go perfectly with the other thing that I clearly needed to be there — my little black cocktail dress.
She: Now, there weren’t that many women.
Z: You mean other than everyone else in the room?
She: There were at least a half-dozen guys. Or so.
Z: I’m not complaining. Really, I think it would be an awesome pick-up place if I was single. I could choose either to be the helpless dude who needs all the girls to show me what to do, or the sensitive artiste who gives them tips on their stroke.
She: It’s not golf, and you’re not single. Yet.
Z: I’ll give it this: I liked thinking about painting, and actually creating something, even if it was step by step. It’s a good way to consider looking at things in a different way, even if for a little while.
She: That’s deep.
Z: And there were a lot of hot chicks.
She: Lovely. As the slogan says, it’s “a little painting, a little wine and a whole lot of fun!” I can’t wait to go back.
Z: Yes, dear.
Tell She and Z what you think by emailing Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com.
She: Wash it all down with a can of Tab, and I’d marry you all over again.
Z: Yes, dear.