Warren C.
Yelp
We arrived at the stated address, unsure of what to expect. Naturally, I pulled the car forward up the tiny hill, as atop that hill was the only building visible to the naked eye. It turned out to be a small church, with every parking spot in the cozy parking lot occupied. Out in front, a woman in her Sunday bests was holding the hand of a small child, seemingly anticipating my arrival.
I was certain I was in the wrong place.
"Excuse me, I think I'm lost," I said to the woman.
She smiled warmly at me. "You must be looking for the Rancho Sisquoc winery," she said.
I was surprised that she knew that. I turned my head to my left and noticed a small cemetery in front of the church. The cold chill of fear ran down my spine. Something didn't seem right.
"Yes," I meekly replied, "is it near?"
"You'll want to head down the path on the right for about a half mile," she said. "It'll lead you all the way to the winery."
I thanked her for her generosity, and began to turn back the way I came, and eventually onto the narrow path on the right, following her aforementioned directions. I passed underneath the large sign bearing the name of the winery, and felt more at ease about where I was going.
There were no other cars on the road, when suddenly, a late model eco-friendly car appeared in my rearview mirror, and it came charging up at a blistering speed. Alarmed, I pressed forward. A half mile passed in a heartbeat. Then another. And another. Where was this damn winery?
Then all of a sudden it dawned on me. It was a trap. Her directions led me down a narrow road, and now here I was, driving along, not sure of where I was going with what I presumed to be a person with hostile intentions pushing close behind me. I checked my phone; no service available.
I looked at my girlfriend in the passenger seat, trying to telepathically communicate to her our perilous situation. She didn't seem to realize and only kept going on about how beautiful the scenery was here. It was apparent that I was alone in this. Think, think. What could I do?
Before I could try something that would make a Hollywood stunt driver proud, a building appeared on the left. It was a house, painted white, and clearly the last stop on this ride. I continued up the path, through the roundabout, and into another small lot behind the house. Where am I?
I stopped the car, got out, and immediately turned around, looking at the car that was following me for the last three miles. The woman from the church got out of the car.
"Sorry," she said, chuckling. "It was a lot further than I had remembered."
At this point, I was certain I had been set up. Am I in danger? How could I have not seen this coming? Without saying a word, I gathered up my personal effects and walked into the Rancho Sisquoc tasting room. There was no turning back.
There she was, the mysterious woman from the church, conversing with another woman behind the tasting counter. I wonder if they were talking about me.
I walked up and purchased two $10 tastings. I selected my first tasting, a red, knowing that it may be my last. I left the tasting room to explore the premises, and was immediately greeted by the most unlikely of creatures, a cat. This I will not forget.
