gallery walk

Yesterday afternoon, in the midst of unpacking my kitchen (the neverending task) our local realtor called to invite hobbitt and me to join her and her husband on this month's gallery walk in downtown Pete Townsend. The first Saturday of every month, many of the galleries stay open with special exhibits (and some of the bakeries and delis, too) and serve hors d'oeuvres and wine.

Now the last thing I wanted to do was stay on my feet, but the option of vacating the premises was too good to pass up. The evening turned out to be sunny and mild and a perfect time to perambulate on the waterfront. We saw some interesting pieces, ate some delicious foods, and enjoyed excellent conversation with Linda and Bob. The buildings downtown are all "vintage" - with the original wavy, bubbly glass in the ample windows, well-worn wooden stairways (a few buildings have elevators and no building is higher than 4 stories - but consider what a flight of stairs means in a vintage building: something like 35 steps), and that wonderful smell of aged wood. It was a lot of climbing and gabbing, and it ended with the four of us getting pizza in this tiny place right on the main drag.

We've seen it in previous visits here, but to me it looked like the place only served at their window, by the slice. Well, upstairs there's a small dining room (perhaps six tables), and the pizzas are cooked downstairs and hauled up by a dumbwaiter which squeaks and squawks as you'd expect from something of its age. The pie was thin-crust, crispy, and excellent, as was the selection of local craft brews and soft drinks.

The evening ended after much lively conversation with an invitation to go sailing sometime this summer with the two of them on their boat.

So I have to ask this question: what universe is this, and who the hell am I? I'm so confused.