My Best Friend is Her, and Her Name is Wine.

I haven't known her the longest of all my friends but I certainly hold her the dearest. I can recall almost every encounter we've ever had in some Minuit detail which is more than I can say for most people I've come across in my lifetime. She is truly my best friend. 

The first time I was introduced to Her, I was well into my teen years, probably 19 or so. My brother and his wife took me to a neighborhood, Asian, back-alley bar in Vegas without proper identification. So crazy, I know. Crazy because I had spent much of my highschool years baking and spending late nights at Village Inn. I was excited and uncomfortable, self conscious and confused, and very out of place. it must have shown through my timid body language. Wine read me like a book. She knew I was too young and immature to meet her alone so she approached me with her bubbly overly sweet friend, Sprite. The two of them sat in front of me bright and eager to get to know me better. They made me feel at ease with the older crowd around me and didn't leave my side the entire evening. Then just like that Wine was out of my life as quickly as she came. Our meeting was brief but one I will never forget. 

Some time passed before our paths crossed again. I went off to college and met a close cousin of hers, Mountain Berry Boone's Farm. I hit it off instantly with Boone's Farm and we were inseparable for years. We were together for every frat party, birthday party, football game, you name the event, we attended it hand-in-hand. Every once in while I'd see Wine at a party from across the room. She'd be ripped from a box and held out like a shiny utter for all to see. I can't imagine those were some of her finer moments so I was reluctant to reintroduce myself to her. But I can recall a few times I'd find myself creeping towards her, like a moth to a flame, tilting my head back and finding myself positioned below her. We didn't reconnect during those times, it was