Yup. That’s yours truly, my sister and Wanderlush herself, my mom. She was in the middle of telling one of her crazy life stories. And people wonder where I get my humor?
- We pretend to be wine snobs but honestly in a pinch we’d drink the Welch’s grape juice that has been fermenting in our grandmother’s cupboard for the past 30 years. Out in public we’re like “Oh. Yellow Tail? I suppose I can if it’s all you have.” While in the privacy of our own home we’re like, “Honey, can you help me lift this gallon of Thunderbird Chianti? I’m trying to fit it into my gym bag.”
- We really don’t need you to count the number of glasses we’ve had at a dinner party or gathering. We’re lushes, not idiots. We can count.”Honey, I think that’s your seventh glass of wine tonight.” And we’re like, “Hey, Nagatha Christie. Mind your own business.” And then we run out the next day and buy bigger wine glasses.
- We don’t care about tannins, legs, or hints of currants and smokey oak. Does the wine make us forget it’s still only 2 p.m. on Monday afternoon? If so, it’ll do.
- There’s no classy way to de-cork a wine bottle. Most of us are just fine straddling that wine bottle with our legs like we’re trying to subdue a wild tiger and gnawing the cork right out from the bottle’s neck. Even if a corkscrew is readily available. And quite honestly the twist cap is a kind gesture to all wine lushes around the world.
- Don’t even think about making that contemptuous face when you float over to our table and introduce yourself as the Sommellier and assume we’re clueless. We saw Black Hawk Down and Captain Phillips. We know what Somalia is.