(A knock on the door.)

Lady A: Hi – thanks for having us over!

Lady B: Hi, so glad you guys could come! J’s just out back by the grill.

A: Honey, why don’t you go say hi?

B: He’s in the gloves and apron, you can’t miss him.
(B’s date exits)

A: An apron, how domestic!

B: Ehh, not so much. He looks like he works at a smelting plant.

A: Well something smells good!

B: Oh yeah, that’s the marinade. Super secret – I’m not allowed in the kitchen during The Process.

A: Surely you can divulge a few secrets…

B: Well, I know it has to be interfaced with Mesquite Prep. That requires a half-day timing algorithm which, from what I can tell, is gleaned subliminally from Scott Turow and “Walker, Texas Ranger”.

A: Yikes – way to delegate. Oh, I brought a bottle of Cabernet. It’s from California – “Finnegan’s Lake.” Supposed to be great with barbecue.

B: Oh, purrrfect. You brought the Fin, and I’ve got a Zin open. Kent Rosenblum – he’s originally from Minnesota. Classic stuff – I think of him as sort of the Bob Dylan of Zinfandel.
(Pours a glass for B.)

A: Cin cin!
(Gazing out the window)
They really do play nice together. Looks like J is showing a little flame technique.

B: Oh, yes. I daydream he could hang with Anthony Bourdain on some, I don’t know, remote veldt, trading BBQ war stories.

A: Maybe it’ll happen.

B: Perhaps. But in my vision, the Birks and the socks never meet.

A: You’re hilarious. This Zinfandel is working!

B: Told ya. Let’s go outside and get smoky.