On Saturday and Sunday, Abigail came into the bar as promised. She was there at 7:00 PM sharp on Saturday and at noon on Sunday. She started with a chocolate Martini on Saturday and then moved on to whit wine and finally reds. On her list of alcoholic beverages that evening, there was Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc from the Malborough region of New Zealand, followed by Alamos Cabernet from Mendoza, Argentina.

I also recommended some of the more unknown corners of the world, like Chateneauf-du-Pape, Cornas, and even far away corners like Paraguay and Uruguay. Regions like the Uco Valley and others...these up-and-comers were my favourites. Even in America, I stayed away from Napa, and steered her more toward the Finger lakes and Walla Walla.

On Sunday, she started with my Signature Bloody Mary. Personally, I like them spicy, so I add a little extra kick for those without a faint heart. It seemed her desire for me and her desire for bodily pain were synonymous. I knew; if given the opportunity, that she would take me for a "walk on the wild side"; however, there was the issue of Samantha.

She had asked me everything to include my favourite sports teams and my previous relationships; and current, in those three days. She took time and careful aim at my heart. And to my surprise, it was working. I was being worked on and worked on like Muhammad Ali used to do with his competitors. He used to "float like a butterfly and sting like a bee"; remember. Well, Abigail had worked me for twelve rounds and was heading in for the kill. One final uppercut, and I would be toast.

It took every ounce of me to attempt to resist, but I allowed her to take me to dinner Monday nite. I was to pick the place and had strict orders for a place with fine dining and a nice; even excellent, and expansive wine list. "Was she going to get me drunk and take advantage of me"? "Would she then jet off to New Hampshire or Maine and never return"? These are the questions I had as I lay in my bed on this Sunday evening.

"What was Abigail's angle"?