|
|
|
| "AMERICA'S FUNNIEST HUMOR"TM
SHOWCASE
|
|
|
April / May 2006 Contest Results |
Wine Tasting:
Refined Past-Time or Extreme Sport?
By
Jacqueline Hurst, California
Contrary to
popular belief, wine drinkers are not as sophisticated as once thought.
Especially when the wine is free.
My husband and I are members of a local vineyard’s wine club. This past
weekend we attended a wine tasting event sponsored by the vineyard in
appreciation of their members. Club members constitute wine aficionados
(alcoholics) who spend, on average, over 65 percent of their annual
income on wine (imbeciles). Hello, my name is Jacqueline and I am an
imbecilic alcoholic.
Hoping to blend in with the wine elite we dressed the part. My husband
donned a handsome ascot with matching tweed jacket, while I slid a
beautiful corsage onto my wrist. Classy.
Upon arriving at the event we quickly realized we were... well, idiots.
The attire of choice was blue jeans and sneakers. Who tastes wine in
sneakers? Apparently wine drinkers do.
Still trying to maintain some decorum, we pulled our shoulders back and
proceeded to the first table. After thirty minutes in line with thirsty,
sweating, denim-clad winos we were provided with our half-ounce of red
splendor. I swirled the lush liquid around in my glass and admired the
legs.
“Get the hell outta the way lady! Can’t you see there’s a line?”
Horrified, we stepped aside to watch the crowd and quickly learned what
needed to be done to get the most out of this event:
1) Pretend you don’t see the 30 people in line and go straight to the
front. Ignore the cuss words and act as if you hardly notice the guy
behind you thumping you in the head with his glass.
2) Hold your
glass inches from the pourer while reciting the following using a fake
British accent: “I thoroughly enjoyed the last wine which was deeply
concentrated with dense layers of aromatic complexity. It started with
hints of apple and pear, followed by just a touch of soggy dog, finally
exploding in my mid-palate with a bold finish of dried hemp and dirty
socks. And, what a complex nose -– filling my nasal cavities with aromas
of blackened parsnips and daring Old Spice overtones.”
3) Turn and
sprint to the next table. Don’t worry about bumping someone’s elbow and
causing them to chip a tooth on their glass. They’ll be so drunk by the
end of this event they won’t even care!
We quickly adapted. My husband threw his ascot to the ground. I hiked up
my skirt and off we ran to sample the next bottle. Forget what you’ve
been told about sniffing and slurping, or enjoying the feel and the
taste. And, don’t even think about spitting! It’s all a myth. To imbibe
like the “experts” at an event like this you need to be able to push,
gulp and sprint! Throw back that half-ounce and move on to the next
table. In no time you’ll be feeling fine and you’ll have the purple
chipped teeth to prove it.
We were bumped and pushed for the next two hours -- my poor corsage
never stood a chance. But, I did overhear the following comment upon
accidentally dropping a petal in someone’s glass:
“Ah, it has such a lovely floral bouquet!”
Worth every chipped tooth.
.
|
