So You're Not Drinking Any Fucking Merlot

i encounter a lot working wine retail.

there are the people who won't drink red wine, or the people who won't drink white. there are the people who think veuve cliquot is the best champagne ever bottled. there are the people who think it's okay to make out in the middle of our store. there are the people who say they're allergic to red wine, that red wine gives them headaches, or they can't have sulphites. (hello? do you drink oj?) there are the people who think it's hilarious and/or insightful to quote sideways incessantly whilst discussing the relative characteristics of a pinot noir. (hello. HE is pinot noir. put on your critical thinking cap.) one woman even told me she refuses to drink wines grown above the 49th parallel because they make her ill.

to all these people i want to scream, "PUH-LEEZE you idiot! do you any idea how much crap you're spewing?"

but instead, i smile real nice like and suggest something that seems to fit within their arbitrary prerequisites.

there are, however, certain things i can't stand.

i don't care for it when people throw their credit cards at me, or their cash. (i didn't just service you; hand me that $50 like a gentleman.) i question their mama's judgment when i offer to help someone and i am completely ignored. this past weekend a woman yelled at me when i wasn't pouring her wine fast enough. there are the guys who stare at my chest and the ones who invite me to go home and drink the bottle they've just purchased. once, a guy actually grabbed my ass.

it's official, internet: people are weird.