Wednesday at 2 p.m. has no such fraternity. It has a world in full swing, both in week and day, chomping at the bit. There are no sympathies and there is no easing into it. There is only gamble: everyone will descend, someone will descend, no one will descend.
Around 4 a.m, just before I finally called it a "night," clearly the gamble had been made: no one will descend.
In the best of ways I was very wrong.
Very soon after opening today, look who graces us with a visit. Gil! Gil (along with Mr. Day) built The Cave. Gil has wine here still ... minus one. It turns out Gil is a very bad influence.
By 2:30 this place was bustling, and I got to introduce Gil to quite a few people. "This is Gil. He built The Cave." What a privilege to be able to say that.
The wine gone missing was a 1993 Raymond Reserve Napa Valley Cab. The early California cabs - well made, sturdy, they hold up over time and drink well.
Tough job, this drudgery, but someone has to do it and that privilege is mine. Cheers, Gil.