This Week In F—k You: The Wine Store Guy

03.16.11 7 years ago 106 Comments

We’re in the dreaded NFL offseason. There’s still no real football for months, or maybe even longer. You’re hurt. You’re angry. You’re hateful. We understand. At KSK, hating things is what we do best, which is why we have the recurring This Week In F–k You series, to soothe your white hot anger. This week: The wine store guy.

ME: (entering wine store)

(looking at bottles of wines on my own for three blissful seconds before being besieged)

WINE STORE GUY: (materializes out of thin fucking air, has stubbly beard and a bald spot covered by six wispy hairs) Are you looking for anything in particular?

ME: Uh… well I was just buying some wine.

WINE STORE GUY: Let me show you some of our newer arrivals.

ME: No, that’s okay. I’m really fine.

WINE STORE GUY: Are we celebrating anything this evening? Birthday? Anniversary? Confirmation?

ME: No. I just… (looks around) Where is the Cabernet?

WINE STORE GUY: Ah. Well, is this your first time shopping at this store?

ME: Uh…

WINE STORE GUY: You see, we don’t actually stock wines by varietal. We do it by flavor profile.

ME: Okay.

WINE STORE GUY: For example, this Zinfandel has been placed on the BOLD shelf, for it has distinct essences of habanero chile, and perhaps a touch of cinnamon.

ME: I just want something good under ten bucks.

WINE STORE GUY: (can’t even begin to hide his disappointment) What are you eating this evening? I have a lovely Merlot that goes well with cous cous.

ME: (saw Sideways three times) I’m not really into Merlot.

WINE STORE GUY: Pity. What about this one… (pulls out $30 bottle) It’s a bit out of your price range. But it has a FANTASTIC, earthy quality to it. The place in Sonoma where they make this wine has this just luscious, wonderfully rich soil. It’s wonderful with any kind of porky terrine.

ME: (scrambling for an exit) Uh… (grabs nearest box of Franzia) I’ll just take this.

WINE STORE GUY: Very well.

ME: (finally snapping) Very well? Very well? THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN, ASSHOLE?

WINE STORE GUY: I didn’t mean offense…

ME: You fucking smooth jazz listening sack of shit. You’re like a cross between Will Ferrell’s James Lipton and Will Ferrell’s Roger Clarvin. I bet you take three-hour baths every night, and masturbate to Glenn Gould records. All I wanted was something to fucking drink. I didn’t come here to make a companion. This is not a cocktail party. I didn’t come here for a fucking SEMINAR on how wine is made. Believe it or not, some people like to drink this shit without overthinking it. You fucking creepy, weird, disgusting man. Why are your fingernails so long? Why is there a very small dog running around this store? WHY CAN’T I JUST BUY A BOTTLE OF ROBERT MONDAVI FOR EIGHT BUCKS WITHOUT YOU RAPING MY PSYCHE! Stop trying to unload everything you learned in a goddamn wine course on me!

Fuck this. I’m going to Trader Joe’s.

WINE STORE GUY: Don’t go! We have a cheese tasting starting just 23 minutes from now!

ME: Blow me.

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