… I am getting better with age.

About a year ago our local Kroger opened grandly*, (and because this town is fancy – the Kroger is more department store than grocery store). Fancy Krogers, ours anyway, have wine departments that occupy more square feet than the natural food area.** I’ve never done a case study (who needs proof when there is self-publishing?), but there is a direct correlation between a town’s grocery store and it’s residents. I conclude the correlation where I live is: our slogan “We are one!” omits half the sentence. “We are one!… bender away from alcoholism.”***

*”opened grandly” = grand opening. I made it up. The sentence was more efficient with creative grammaring.
**”Natural food area” – The part of the store with fruits and veggies that you walk through to get to the wine.
***It’s only acceptable because people here are wealthy. Fact. I don’t make the rules. I observe.

Not only does our Kroger have a fuck-ton* of wine, it has some ridiculously expensive wine, like $500 expensive, (for one bottle… that is the exact same size as all the other bottles). Yes. No decimals omitted. In my world there is only so much money I will/can afford to spend on anything that my digestive system filters out and removes from my body. The amount is $50 and averages closer to $8.99.

The fact that I live in a town that has a Kroger that stocks bottles of wine worth $500: BLOWS. MY. MIND. The fuck? “HONEY, THAT TWISTER DONE DROPPED US IN WELLSLEY, MASSACHUSETTS?!?!.” There’s more… According to Kroger’s wineoseur, there are people who buy five-hundred dollar bottles of wine. Enough people to economically justify the stocking of said wine. FOLLOW. THE. YELLOW. BRICK. ROAD.

*”Fuck-ton” – American Standard form of measurement that roughly equates to the volume of 20 hippopotamus; most commonly used by the intoxicated & other persons that don’t give a shit about accuracy. More than a “shit-ton” and less than a “holy-fuck-ton.”

Wineoseur is NOT the term for someone who helps select the perfect bottle while educating and sharing interesting wine trivia. My readers aren’t idiots, clearly. 1. they can read 2. they have excellent taste. I’m not clarifying. I’m apologizing. Making up words is lazy writing. Google exists for a reason. Unfortunately, laundry doesn’t fold itself and I don’t give a fuck-ton about the real name for wineoseur.” [/box type="shadow"]

The wineoseur observed me browsing and either thought I was a person that could afford expensive wine or he wasn’t a wineoseur at all; just a creepy dude with terrible pick-up lines. He spent a half-hour walking the aisles with me sharing wine factoids. I was waiting for my husband to come rescue me. That damn man just kept right on buying groceries like he didn’t notice I was missing. He was in the “natural food” area.

The creepy dude theory makes me a tiny bit sad. I prefer to believe the wineoseur thought I was a fancy lady.

Fortunately, I love to learn. Wineoseur/creepy dude taught me that the finest, most valuable wines, are best when they’ve aged fifty or more years. So, if you go to the store and buy a $500 bottle of wine, you are supposed to store it at a precise temperature and leave it the fuck alone. For a long time. Like years.

WHO DOES THAT? Doesn’t everyone practice just-in-time purchasing? I bet it’s the same population of people who have a closet full of clothes with the tags on. I freaking wear clothes with the tags still on. Not on purpose.

Moral of the wineoseur: The best wines go bad if you don’t treat them very, very well and rich people are more patient than I am.

For a year, I stored my new knowledge in the “information that does nothing to serve my life” file. Today, my mind was wandering through random data, and yelled, “MISFILE!” Which was both startling and inconvenient, (I have a fuck-ton to do before tomorrow when I fly away and leave this dream to my husband for a couple weeks – like pack…). As it turns out the wineoseur imparted me with some very relevant philosophical excellence. Things of value need to be handled with care! AND the really exceptional require more time to reach their peak of awesomeness!
This is great news for my family. Like I’ve been trying to tell everyone, there is nothing wrong with me. I am extremely FINE*. YOU JUST NEED TO BE MORE PATIENT WITH ME.

*”Fine” – as in “Damn! That girl is FINE!” as stated emphatically by gay or black men, (because they say it right, that’s why).

Best estimates say that in seven to 12 years, you are going to really, really enjoy me.

PS – My husband says I need to stop listening to the Amazon Prime Stand-Up Comedy Channel. He says I’m speaking in comedic clips, heavy on the sarcasm. I said, “you’re welcome.” He did not laugh. Sometimes, he takes the fun right out fun. Not just the F or the U. All the fun.

PPS – Does anyone want to accompany me to a liquor store store and try to convince a random stranger to consult the wineoseur on staff? Or, we can stand in the wine aisle near the pricey stuff and act fancy and name drop wineoseur; see if anyone reacts.