The drive to Canvas and Cabernet was mercifully shorter, but no less eventful. Our vintage convertible, with two women in identical, show-stopping burgundy cloths and knee-high boots, drew a fresh wave of stares. We exchanged grins, feeling like secret agents on a glamorous, slightly unhinged mission. The G-Wagon once again followed, a silent, powerful shadow.
Canvas and Cabernet turned out to be in a vibrant, artsy part of town, nestled between a quirky bookstore and a brightly painted coffee shop. It wasn't the hushed reverence of the boutique; this place buzzed with lively chatter, upbeat music, and the clinking of glasses. As we entered, the contrast was immediate and hilarious.
