Clearly Not a Sommelier

6:52 PM - As I drive to the bar, I try to ignore the bubbling anxiety resulting from the fact that as of right now I am exactly 22 minutes late. Punctuality is something that I try to be courteous of, however, earlier this afternoon I got sucked into my infinitely accumulating inbox and completely lost track of time.

6:55 PM - My phone starts vibrating in the passenger's seat and I - for a split second - consider not answering. But my manners get the better of me and I answer on the 3rd buzz.

“Hey Lynn, do you have an ETA? I want to make sure we can still participate in the wine tasting.”

I sigh, “Yeah, I’m less than 5 minutes away… and again I’m really, really, really sorry for the delay.”

“Apology accepted. See you soon,” he says abruptly hanging up. I’m hurt by the curtness but it seems fair for him to be annoyed considering my late arrival.

7:02 PM - I walk into the “bar” which I can see now is much more of a swanky late night lounge. Since it was only seven at night on a Sunday, I dressed casually, but I was now starting to wonder if that had been a mistake on my part.

I scan the place and spot the reserved room for the wine tasting event. As I start in that direction I hear someone call out my name.

I spin around and see a man standing alone at the bar - beckoning me to join. I walk over.

“Hey Peter, so nice to finally meet you,” I say as I go in for a half-hug. He stops me - sticking out his hand saying, “I’m glad you could finally make it.” I shake his hand and let out an awkward giggle. As I take a seat I try to evaluate his expression; but I can’t tell whether he’s serious or just has an extremely dry sense of humor.

“Shouldn’t we go into the back room there? It looks like the rest of this place isn’t being serviced” I say as I motion to the empty bar and tables filling the rest of the room.

“Well, since the event had already started by the time you got here,” he says smirking, “I thought we could just and do a little wine tasting of our own. I’m no sommelier, but I do know a thing or two about my wines.”

“The extent of my knowledge consists of red, white, and rosé.” I say, not entirely joking, “But red is easily my favorite. Merlot is the only kind I ever buy for myself.” I pause, “Did anyone agree to serve us over here?”

“No, but I own the joint - so I’ll be the one serving us.” He looks smug and I hope I look as unimpressed as I feel.

7:58 PM - After we taste a multitude of white and pink wines I realize I need to pee. Peter has been boasting about his wine knowledge and brilliance in the restaurant business. Apparently, he has “superior taste buds” and “more brains than anyone else in the industry”. I’ve not been listening for quite some time now. I try to faze back into the conversation so I can find a good place to interrupt.

“...and it was on that trip to Italy that really gave me an appreciation for the robustness of red wines. For me, I..”

“Peter, sorry to interrupt. I need to run to the ladies room - please excuse me.”

“Okay, well, get ‘red’-y for reds” he chuckles to himself.

I roll my eyes, “I’d really love just a glass of merlot - if that’s okay. I’ve enjoyed the tasting but I’d really love to just sip on a glass of wine that I like and chat about our interests - maybe interests outside of wine.” I turn and walk to the restrooms.

8:03 PM - I return to find that Peter has placed many red wine bottles on the bar. I ask him “Are these your various merlot options?” referring back to our pre-bathroom conversation.

“No, these are the reds for the next portion of the tasting.”

I am ready to explode. “Seriously dude? You can’t listen to the one thing I’ve been able to get out through your never ending self promotion?” I grab my purse and coat.

“C’mon now, you have this unique chance to expand your palate,” he says as if his expertise was world renowned. It’s clearly not.

Without saying a word, I walk around the bar and find a bottle of merlot. I promptly leave with it in hand.

8:26 PM - I return home determined to redeem my - less than enjoyable - evening. So, I curl up on the couch with my favorite book, pouring myself a glass of my new merlot.