So, last week seemed to be the week for holiday parties here at Wine Giques HQ, and Wednesday night was the mother of the Festivus season: Office party, followed by the Tennis Club party. (Say "Tennis Club" with your teeth slightly clenched, just to get the effect. It's not at all a snobby place, but it's fun to say it like that, anyway.)
The office party was anything but typical, as the more industrious among us hauled all the equipment out of the studio and hauled in a bunch of furniture and rugs borrowed from a local prop house. Then a caterer showed up and laid out a delicious spread, which included some rockin' mac and cheese from Granville, good for the atypically brisk LA weather.
What was typical about the office party was the game we played -- you know, that obnoxious only-at-the-holidays fake gift-athon where everyone draws a number, and the person after you either gets to choose a gift -- or steal your gift? (This game probably has a name, but no one ever seems to remember what it is, probably because the stress of actually playing it is so overwhelming.) Well, I got a late number, which is the kind of number you want, because you can suss out the gifts and decide what you want to steal. And, although the horror film victim action figures were pretty tempting, and it was all I could do not to hide the case of Fat Tire Ale that I contributed to the melée, I soon spotted the gift I really wanted: Danny DeVito Limoncello.
Now, as all my fellow villa-trotting friends know, I'm a sucker for the Limoncello. It's the tie that binds us all together when we're in Italy: the libation that brings on the dance moves, loosens the tongues, and sends us into long conversations regarding life, love and the best way to make pizza.
Well, it apparently has a similar effect on Danny DeVito, who decided to make his own brand after his infamous appearance on The View, when he showed up tipsy, and blamed it on a long night of drinking Limoncello with his pal and GoFugYourself intern George Clooney. I'd call that making the best of a bad situation, wouldn't you?
As for the Limoncello itself, it's pretty tasty. I popped open the bottle after the Tennis Club (clenched teeth) soirée for a nightcap with my handsomest of party buddies, who happened to have a little cold. It did loosen our tongues a little, and we did speak of pizza, but mostly we reflected on how, when life hands you lemons, you gotta make lemonade. Take it from Signore DeVito. Happy Holidaze, y'all.