While Richard was catching lizards & crashing bikes in the desert, Carla was wrangling horses & waves in California. Who knew they’d someday collide in a flurry of light, rivaling Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid as the finest accomplices to roam the land?
Their paths took them separately through all sorts of twists & turns; Carla to NYU for acting & Richard nearly became an attorney (that would have been very bad.) Anyways, eventually they figured out that you can have a damn fine time (& make a living!) throwing a good party, thus, they found their way to wine. Carla served the stuff up at some tony joints in NYC for a while, while Richard found the dearth of oxygen & excess of disposable income in Aspen more suitable to his wine service.
Then, on one hot, muddy & muggy afternoon they found themselves in the same park at the same time &, well, Carla was wearing this hot pink tank top & pouring excessive quantities of sherry, & that was it. Boom. They were on their way to the sun.
After banging around the solar system for a while they realized they needed gas money or at least a break on the wine, so they asked themselves ‘how do we make our own supply from which to get high?’ Whelp, turns out they both love the same wines & Richard had a little experience making this & that, so they headed to OZ to make some dee-lish hooch