During the service exam, you stuck your tongue into the neck of the wine bottle you’d just opened and moaned, “Oh, God, I love you, Lettie.”
In your description of Grüner Veltliner, you used the word “taint” without mention of cork.
Mistakenly wore your diaphragm around your neck instead of a tastevin. Made the wine smell funny.
May have been overheard calling Fred Dame MS, “Wine’s Donald Trump.”
When asked by the examiner if you thought a Duckhorn was good, you said, “Yes, it’s perfect for when you have a really tight duck.”
Forgot to bring the answers you found in your email to the blind tasting exam.
Your answer for a question on soil samples was 1000 words on Depends.
You mistakenly identified “sommelier” as the primary grape in Sauternes, and declared Barsac a venereal disease contracted from stools in natural wine bars.
During the blind tasting exam, you spit each wine into your hand and yelled, “Baby needs a new pair of shoes!”
Beyoncé is not a variety. It was not crossed with Kanye to make Pinotage.
When asked for a wine to accompany Hamachi, you suggested Yellow Tail.
You wore clown shoes.
Identified all six wines in the blind tasting as “kinda bitey.”
When asked to identify the seven subzones of Chianti, you left out Sneezy.
When finished serving a bottle of Grower Champagne, one is not supposed to spike it and yell, “In your face, cocksuckers!” That’s only allowed after serving Dom Perignon.
You thought part of the service exam was blowing a balloon animal in the shape of your MS mentor. Where did the balloon animal figure in, stupid?
You misunderstood the word “proctor,” and asked to have your prostate checked. Luckily, it was fine.
When asked what is your favorite German TBA, you said, “The winner of the Angela Merkel lookalike contest.”
You have a vagina.
Geez. I thought it was because they didn't like my choice of cologne.
Old Friend Tim,
When in doubt, go with RAJ by Michael Mina. It attracts wine buttkissers like harvest attracts fruit flies. If only the buttkissers life spans were also two weeks...
Plus, it's best if the cologne isn't on your breath.
Thanks for being a common tater.
Duckhorn, huh. Gives new meaning to the expression "social lubricant".
It all makes sense at last Ron. My cousin contracted the gonococci from a Bastord called Lamontagne on a school trip to Bordeaux. And my mother used to warn me to avoid the three D's at all cost, i.e. women called Doisy, Daisy and Dolly. I had no idea what she meant until now.
Vin de Terre,
Not to mention "duck sauce."
Grey rot is no laughing matter. Wonderful for wine, noble rot isn't the little secret you want to keep in your pants. Even if it does make your underwear smell like honeysuckle.
Oh, man are you gonna get it, Ron.
Nope. Probably not. Whatever it is, I already had it.
It's difficult being a sommelier! After blogging about wine for years I got sick of not being able to buy food and found a job as a sommelier at a two star in London. After five days I tried to kill myself. Not because the work was hard, but because suddenly I'd become a pointless non-entity, whom no one listened to with no meaning to my life. When I got out of the nuthouse I went back to the brilliant party life of wine blogging and I felt much better!
Thanks for being a common tater.
I agree, if one wants to be ignored and lead a meaningless life, a blog is far preferable to being a sommelier. Worked for me!
I failed the test because I didn't pay the corkage fee for Reggie Narito's bottle of Charles Shaw Chardonnay at Denny's the night before the exam.
I did have some issues with Gray Rot...
W. Blake Gray Rot
Fred Dame an MW? I don't think so :)
Good catch! I shall amend... He's MS. Marvel Superhero.
So the other night my Somm approaches the table wearing clown shoes and recommends Boone's Farm Strawberry since we ordered Braised Leeks with Mozzarella & a Fried Egg. He mentioned his previous endeavor for the past 10 years was writing wine blogs. I congratulated him on his achievements and left a $50 tip. Who should check into the Nuthouse 1st?
Trick question. You're already in the Nuthouse.
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