Half Empty, Half Fulfilling

Story Sent in by Grant:

A bar with an extensive wine list was the setting of my first date with Cyndi. She was an wine enthusiast. I had confessed to her in an email that I didn't know much about wines, but she had never addressed that.

At the bar, she ordered some type of red wine and I ordered another kind that I picked at random. She gave me a funny look and asked, "You're ordering the [whatever-I-ordered]? Really?"

I said, "Why, is this a bad year for it?"

She said, "Every year is a bad year for sewage."

I asked her, "Maybe you can recommend one for me."

She laughed and asked, "Are you serious? You're a guy. Aren't you supposed to have a pre-programmed list of good beers and wines in your brain?"

"I don't know. As a woman, do you know the precise differences between Godiva and Teuscher chocolates?"

She said, "Yes! Ha!"

"And they are?"

She laughed, but a bit more uncomfortably this time. "I don't have to tell you. Don't turn this around on me." She pointed to a wine on the list and said, "Order a glass of that one."

Maybe she was making peace. It was a sensibly priced red. I ordered a glass and drank it. It tasted fine.

She cackled and said, "Ha! It's a bad year for that one! A bad year for that one!" She sang it in a "na-na-na-na-na" tune, like in my old grade school days.

I shrugged, finished the wine (despite her incredulous stare), put enough money down on the bar to cover myself, said, "Have a nice life," and left her there without another word. If good wines are more important to her than good company, I hope she has a very fulfilling life.