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- Feb 9, 2010
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How about stories of bad wine experiences? I just has one recently.
Last week, a good friend of mine (Peter) was bragging about some wine he just bought. He got a whole gallon for just $14 at one of these chain bulk-stores.
Gosh, was he proud of that wine! "What a bargain!" he kept saying.
Well before I knew it he was handing me a huge glass of it, filled right up to the brim.
Now I know my reputation around these parts as resident wine snob. Normally, you would be correct in thinking that my prejudices would get in the way in this situation. This time, however, I decided to forego my natural instincts and keep an open mind. Who's to say that this cheap, jug wine isn't any good? I just might be surprised.
So, striving to be a better johnT, I took one sip and wanted to DIE!!!
This wine was sickly sweet (estimate about 3% residual), was incredibly hot (16, no kidding, 16%abv), and was void of any body, balance, and character. I mean this stuff could only be used for getting drunk while being fully unencumbered by any sense of enjoyment along the way. Good God above! This stuff was absolutely shattering!
Now here is the problem. Peter was so proud of that wine that any comment, critique, or negative reaction on my part would have definitely hurt his feelings. I really like Peter and really did not want that to happen. So, I had no choice but to smile and give him an approving nod. I was definitely pulling it off, but then realized that I had about 8 ounces of the stuff in my glass. I was undoubtedly expected to finish the entire glass with great relish.
Kill me now.
Fortunately for me, we were in the middle of an impromptu party, so Peter's attention was not on me 100% of the time. Once Peter's attention was focused elsewhere, I very slowly, and in a most nonchalant way, sidled up alongside his kitchen sink. Over the course of 15 minutes, I slowly poured the contents of my glass (little by little) down his drain. Finally, to cover my tracks, I made a big production of washing my glass, using the water to further rinse down any lingering evidence of my deception.
So much for trying to be nice. Being a snob might not win you any popularity contests, but at least I can avoid the need to rip my tongue out of my mouth!
Last week, a good friend of mine (Peter) was bragging about some wine he just bought. He got a whole gallon for just $14 at one of these chain bulk-stores.
Gosh, was he proud of that wine! "What a bargain!" he kept saying.
Well before I knew it he was handing me a huge glass of it, filled right up to the brim.
Now I know my reputation around these parts as resident wine snob. Normally, you would be correct in thinking that my prejudices would get in the way in this situation. This time, however, I decided to forego my natural instincts and keep an open mind. Who's to say that this cheap, jug wine isn't any good? I just might be surprised.
So, striving to be a better johnT, I took one sip and wanted to DIE!!!
This wine was sickly sweet (estimate about 3% residual), was incredibly hot (16, no kidding, 16%abv), and was void of any body, balance, and character. I mean this stuff could only be used for getting drunk while being fully unencumbered by any sense of enjoyment along the way. Good God above! This stuff was absolutely shattering!
Now here is the problem. Peter was so proud of that wine that any comment, critique, or negative reaction on my part would have definitely hurt his feelings. I really like Peter and really did not want that to happen. So, I had no choice but to smile and give him an approving nod. I was definitely pulling it off, but then realized that I had about 8 ounces of the stuff in my glass. I was undoubtedly expected to finish the entire glass with great relish.
Kill me now.
Fortunately for me, we were in the middle of an impromptu party, so Peter's attention was not on me 100% of the time. Once Peter's attention was focused elsewhere, I very slowly, and in a most nonchalant way, sidled up alongside his kitchen sink. Over the course of 15 minutes, I slowly poured the contents of my glass (little by little) down his drain. Finally, to cover my tracks, I made a big production of washing my glass, using the water to further rinse down any lingering evidence of my deception.
So much for trying to be nice. Being a snob might not win you any popularity contests, but at least I can avoid the need to rip my tongue out of my mouth!