it’s a mystery.

though we tried to identify this arm, the watchband and the bracelet, we have no idea.

someone texted us this photograph – sans words – and left it at that.

granted, there are plenty of texts that arrive from political groups, fundraisers, smarmy this-is-amazon-we-are-shutting-down-your-account-give-us-all-your-information-to-save-yourself. even the occasional “hi” from a number we don’t recognize or, worse yet, inappropriately vulgar texts coming from who-knows-where. but never a bottle of wine.

apparently, this is an expensive bottle of wine. we looked it up. it ranges in price from several hundred dollahs to several thousand dollahs – neither of which we could or would spend on a single bottle at this moment.

when i had dinner shy of twenty years ago in nyc with a radio program director of the biggest adult contemporary station in the metro area he ordered a bottle of wine. he also ordered truffles flown in from france earlier that day. sharp cheeses for in-between courses. port to follow the meal. i hoped and prayed that we weren’t splitting the bill. my work was on radio, slowly gaining, but he had an expense account. the expense account that i had was from my label – which i owned. i kept every receipt and documented everything, but there is that small detail of having the money to cover the expense…

the wine he chose was $250. a merlot. i can’t remember which vineyard, what year, or what area of the world in which it was produced. i just remember the price and that it was truly a lovely glass of wine, with depth and complexity and a delightful finish. it could have been opus one.

the entire bill was nearing $800 and, though it was an experience i won’t forget, all i could think of was that we could have had big macs together and chatted the chat we chatted and he could have donated the rest to a food bank in the city. the fancy-fance was somewhat lost on me…the backpack-toting-jeans-boots-wearing scrappy artist recording in the city. when i arrived, i had walked into a chic place, a stainless bar going the length of the restaurant, exposed brick, program director on a stool in animated conversation with the bartender, and the hostess – or was she the maître d’? – asked, “would you like me to check your ….errr…. backpack?” i declined. at that moment, that errr-backpack had everything in it…my purse, my clothes, my composing notes, my plane ticket, fresh socks, my toothbrush and a travel blowdryer. i couldn’t check it.

so the other day when this photograph arrived in our textbox, we searched the area code to see if we could figure out who it might be from. no luck. and no follow-up. we wondered if it was an ad or – in a positive foreshadowing moment – a glimpse of a package to arrive. such teasing.

i suppose we won’t ever know. nothing has arrived via usps, fedex, ups. though yesterday i did get an email that said my dhl package was waiting to be delivered – if i would just supply them with all my payment information and signature.

payment information? uh-huh. if it’s for that bottle of wine – the 1999 signed opus one bordeaux red blend – i’m gonna need to pass. exquisite will have to wait. maybe until opus two.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY