I don’t have many regrets.
In fact, I can count the number of regrets in my life on one hand.
This is due in part to the fact that I don’t consider a lot of my more foolish decisions to be regrets – I knew that they would be a bad decision, and I made them anyhow.
It’s also due to my considering all of my experiences to be character building. Sure, some of them were painful, but they all add up to make me the person who I am today. And all of that mess.
However, I do have just a few.
And one of them is this guy:
Allow me to paint you a word picture.
Back in the day, approximately one week after my 21st birthday, I had returned from both Vegas and Dallas and was sitting atop the now-defuct Forge & Vine patio in Columbia, Missouri with two of my fabulous friends. If you’ve ever seen a photo of me posing with a totem pole-looking bear carved out of wood – SUPER-EXCITED – it’s from this night.
Anyway, we’re on the rooftop patio, and I’m drinking some over-priced, fruity martini while Caitlin and Petzel are tolerating my lightweight-ed drunken state. And I suddenly decide that it’s quite important to tell them about my SkyMall dream purchase. All I remember saying, over and over again, was this:
“NO. He’s the french wine pants man. And you put the wine in his pants!”
They thought I was waaaaay drunker than I was. NEITHER of them believed that he actually existed, and I got louder and louder as I insisted that he did.
Okay, yeah, I was totally trashed. After two drinks. I was 21.
But that wine rack was real and I really, really did want this awesome wine rack. And I told myself that I was too mature for something like that, but I secretly wanted it so, so bad.
Eventually, the french wine pants man became a story that we could retell over and over again to illustrate how poorly I held my liquor. Thankfully, on the next flight my friends took, they too noticed the enlightened stance of this fine beret-wearing gentleman.
Sadly, by the time that I rented a home large enough to house my fine wiry friend, the fine people at SkyMall stopped selling Pierre. Hence why he’s one of my few, few regrets. If only I had purchased him when I had the chance!
So, if you see my dear, dear Pierre (think of me saying that in Lina Lamont’s voice) for sale anywhere…even if you feel that he’s quite expensive, let me know.
They won’t put his picture on a milk carton, I already tried. But perhaps the magic of the interweb will bring him back to me.