Yet another family vacation ruined by billable hours and client work for the wife of a New York City lawyer. She doesn’t know how many more of these she can take.
“Another pinot grigio for table 12”
She should probably buy the whole bottle at this point, it would be more cost effective. But who worries about cost in Aspen? Wrapped up in the life of decadence with nowhere to turn. Lifestyle creep wouldn’t even describe it. She hasn’t had a bottle of wine worth less than $200 in 15 years. The wall safe is full of tennis bracelets and teal boxes; one for each misstep in infidelity or missed anniversary.
As the clock ticks by on an otherwise nice ski day the bar empties out. Kids are picked up by their parents, locals head home to start dinner, the bachlor/ette parties have gone to nap before going out. But our lone white wine enthusiast waits for the benzodiazepines to kick in. The stem of her wine glass has almost been worn through as it is the victim of deep contemplation.
No friends on a powder day? No friends on any day.
World class vacations are meaningless when they’re full of boredom. No one likes to ski alone. Or scuba alone. Or safari alone.
Sometimes there’s more than meets the eye with the person that has everything.
But what the hell do I know? I’m just the guy pouring the drinks.
-publius
The Huck 