and I’m not going back.

September 23, 2011 · 2 comments

Allow me to set the scene… Last stop of the day with a brand new account. I’d met him once very briefly, earlier that week when I made this appointment. The buyer is perhaps in his late 60’s, restaurant owner, very proud of himself and his “signature” macadamia nut crusted salmon and wasabi mashed potato dish (1997 just called and he wants his food trend back).

Winebuyer (WB): Are you tasting with me?

Me: Sure, why not… you’re my last appointment today…

(WB brings two glasses, no dump.)

Me: Do you have a dump bucket or glass?

WB: Shit, you’re not one of those spitters, are you? I mean it’s so disgusting to see beautiful women open their mouths and spew wine everywhere… it’s really not attractive.

Me: Well, yes… I am… I do have to drive quite a ways after this, and if I tasted and swallowed with every account, I’d be drunk by noon… attractive or not, it’s necessary, and it keeps the palate fresher.

WB: So you do spit?

Me: Yes.

WB: And your boyfriends don’t mind that you don’t swallow?

Me: ………. uh….

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