Wine tasting party

by Bryce Kennedy

June 25, 2003

Usually, when I deal with the rich and culturally elite of this town, they say things like, “Put a shirt on” and, “Stop touching my face!” But those days are coming to a close, oh my brothers. Soon, they’ll say things like “Kudos, darling! Your wine tasting party was a smashing success!” and, “Please rub your Cheetos-stained fingers on my face!” Yes sir, a good wine tasting party is a first class ticket to high society. And, with what I learned from last week’s practice run, I’m all set to throw the best wine taste-o-rama the world has ever seen!

I can’t take all the credit for my impending wine tasting party success, though. I owe much of it to my new best friend, Fred. Fred taught me all of the subtle nuances of the wine tasting party--stuff you can’t find in your local bookstore. He told me that I should wear shoes to my next party. Point taken! He told me that I shouldn’t have Baywatch on the TV during the party. Point taken! He told me that a box of Franzia wine is a no no. Point taken! He told me that I should invite other people to the wine tasting, instead of drinking by myself. Point taken, feelings hurt! He told me that gulping isn’t tasting. Point ignored!

Then, Fred taught me the greatest lesson of all. He looked me right in the eye and said, “Sir, alcohol is not allowed on Wal-Mart property! Now, either lose the booze, get some shoes, and stop touching my face, or I’m going to have to call the cops! And my name is AMY!!!”

Fred taught me a lot about wine tasting that day. With his guidance, my wine tasting parties will be must-see events, and my greasy orange fingers will be a virtual who’s who of high society faces. Point taken, Fred, point taken.