R. Joiner
2014
There goes Le Roi de Soliel rolling down the hill. Like Roy always says: the first thing you do when you open one of these gallon jugs is toss the cap away. Now, he’s tumbling down a dirt path in the Presidio with the lights of The City winking behind and the GGB, a waterfront hack’s “golden”, glistening through the light fog and beckoning dead ahead. Michigan Bob gets to Roy first to make sure the wine is intact, both of them laughing and coughing, a couple of lunatics in the darkness. Just like them to howl at a new moon as now here comes Tex plummeting down the hill to meet them, hoping he can arrest his momentum before he bowls them over like a couple of tenpins needed for a spare.
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