Dear Elli,
You know how I'm kind of crazy? Well, I'm going to admit to one more crazy ass dysfunction. I'm terrified of wine.
That's right. It terrifies me. In fact, when I'm with a group of wine drinking people at a restaurant and they start discussing the wine list, my heart rate literally quadruples. I hate it. It makes me want to go back to Akron....and grab a 40oz at the drive thru on my way.
It intimidates the shit out of me. Nobody in my family ever really drank wine. We were broke. And broke people drink beer. I grew up watching my grandpa drink Old Milwaukee's Best. I'm serious. My love for Bud Light in a bottle is a massive step up. That's right, I'm one classy bitch.
Anyway, I grew up thinking that only pretentious assholes drink wine. The way they twirl their glasses and swish it around in their mouths looks stupid. And even though I'm sure there's some point to all that pretentious assholery, I still have to resist the urge to punch people in the throat when I see them do it. Just drink the shit already. It's a beverage, not a bedmate. There's really no need for all the foreplay.
So I received an offer with my Wall Street Journal today for this wine club. Yes, a lot of pretentious assholes read the Wall Street Journal. These people will send me a case of wine every quarter so I can try to rid myself of this ridiculous insecurity and stop being terrified at restaurants with wine lists.
I'm going to give this wine thing a try and see what I can learn. After all, I also grew up thinking people who play golf and read the Wall Street Journal are pretentious assholes, and I learned to do both.
But I swear to God, under no circumstance, will I ever twirl my glass or swish wine around in my mouth. If I do, I'll punch myself in the throat. Because that is definitely still pretentious assholery.
I love you.
Mom, The Wine Club Member
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