It definitely was not, "too good to be true!"

The expression, "too good to be true," is often very true. Why we as people have to constantly try to dispel the truth in this expression is lost to me. We read this expression, and like a bottom feeding catfish that just lucked upon a fat slimy worm, we take the bait every time. I am no exception. The poster child for A.D.D, with my natural curiosity for all things questionable, had to go check out a winery that was "too good to be true!"

I know, you are wondering what happened at this winery that was, "too good to be true." Well, to begin with, I saw an ad for a job at this facility. Now mind you, the recently obtained baccalaureate...wow, spell check didn't go off!...I digress, has me considering all sorts of get rich quick schemes that involve free, usually leftover at the end of the day wine (most wineries do this), and endless partying. So, when I saw this ad which clearly stated that "this was the opportunity of a lifetime," and that the facility was fun, exciting, fun and inviting, I had to find out for myself. After all, what kind of winery would boast like this? This had to be, "too good to be true!"

These days, the gas gauge in Kinji, (that is my cars' name) rarely ascends to the bright red letter F. I have one of those "floater" type sending units that can vary the actual amount of gas based on how fast you turn a corner or how steep the downhill slope that you park on is. I get excited when I can put as little as three dollars in the tank and the needle shoots all the way to the half full mark, then settles at just above the bright red letter E. On this day, Kinji got a rare treat...enough gas to tickle his belly half full. I know when the gauge is accurate. Drive for at least 30 minutes and if the needle does not move...we have gas! So with Kinji well fed, we headed up the hill to visit this winery that was, "too good to be true."

The drive was peaceful considering that the outside temperature hovered at around something akin to a nice afternoon in Hell. The windows were completely rolled down, which allowed the hot air to fill  the inside of the car like a pizza oven. This area is beautiful year round, and the terrain was familiar. Kinji seemed to enjoy the ride as well. He promised to not digest his nearly full belly as long as I did not use the air conditioner. The things we do for our cars. Besides, I was in a good mood, the CD player blasted  Tower of Power music and sweat pooled in unmentionable places. If nothing else, at least five pounds of water weight would be lost and I could skip the nightly workout. This was going to be a great day, because this winery was going to be, "too good to be true!"

 Reaching a slight diversion on the road...a sign that said, "Hand crafted Italian wines," it would have been rude to not stop and say hello. A new wine club later, I continued on the journey for another 1200 feet down the road. I roared Kinji up the gravel driveway, and momentarily my heart sank as his gas gauge needle plunged back to the bright red letter E! Not to worry, he corrected himself and settled between a quarter of a tank and half full. Not bad for a car that has almost 265,000 miles. Kinji found a spot that he liked and bade me farewell as I excitedly walked toward the entrance. I was met outside by a young lady who was friendly and informative pouring wine near the entrance. I was not amused by the guy who made eye contact with me long before the young lady did, but did not speak or acknowledge my presence. His dark sunglasses may have prevented him from seeing me, perhaps?

The young lady explained the protocol and advised me on how to proceed with the visit. The white wines were good, and considering that it was hot as Satan's armpits, I eagerly slurped them down. Sunglass guy was still not responsive. It was not until I made a comical reference about the Sauvignon Blanc that he exhibited a pulse. From this point on, I could detect that blood flowed through his body.

After tasting the white wines, I was directed into the actual winery. Swerving throughout the cavernous interior, two additional employees greeted me as I walked by and eagerly reminded me that this was the place that was, "too good to be true." I believed them until I got to the tasting bar.

How does one describe total, blatant dismissal and invisibility? Okay, harsh, I'll draw an accurate picture.
 The tasting bar is no more than 20-25 feet long, and there were no fewer than six people behind it to serve the 10-15 people tasting. Do the math; this is no more than two people per pourer. On my best days, I could pour for an entire bar full of people...realistically five to ten people...alone! Moving on. I observed the goings on, waited patiently, played with a dog being held by a lady next to me, tapped on the counter, attempted to make eye contact only to have my glare received and diverted and finally had to literally slam my glass down to get noticed. At this point, one employee attempted to at least look at me, but he was soon shoved aside as if he was treading on someone's turf. Ahhh, the turf wars of behind the tasting bar. Never steal a sale of a wine club lest ye be flogged by your peers.

At this point, a young lad, name withheld, noticed my disdain and condescendingly asked what I wanted next.  Next?  Was he blind? Did he not notice that the glass in front of me was a dry as the arid air outside? After nearly 10 minutes of not noticing my presence, I had to mention to him that I had not had anything since sidling up to the bar. At this point, he grabbed a bottle of something red...never did say hi, hello, nice to see you, welcome, or anything else that would make me want to taste anything, let alone apply for a job at this place. He just poured and walked away. (could he and sunglass guy be related?)

Wow, the wine sucked! Not because of a flaw in winemaking, but because having stood at the bar far too long without even being acknowledged, the acid in my stomach churned. A foul, bitter taste lurched upward into my mouth. A cold chill ran down my spine. No eye contact, no I'll be right with you, no fun! With that many people performing for a small audience,  disappointment set in and I wanted nothing more than to leave. Deciding to give it one more shot, I reluctantly proceeded to the barrel tasting area. Maybe it was just too dark in the cave? Lack of sunshine can cause severe attitude problems. Approaching the barrels, the girl pouring made several comments about the wine. Because she was unable to fill the wine thief...a long glass cylinder used to extract wine from a barrel. (Think back to your childhood when you stuck a straw in your Kool-aid, covered one end of the straw, and magically pulled a sample of  the always red, but did not taste like cherry liquid out of the glass) she said that the barrels may have not been topped off. Bad move. Never say anything negative about the wine. If there is a glitch, find out why before you serve. As for barrel tasting, know your wines and be precise with your wine spiel. Worse yet, she began to serve the wine unevenly. Some were given at least a one ounce pour, others barely had their glasses moistened. When she got to my glass, there was nothing left in the wine thief. She seemed to not notice, but she does get kudos though for at least acknowledging that someone was standing there.

Exiting the winery, and glancing back at the tasting bar to see if maybe there was something overlooked,  I noticed that several people were now waiting to be served, and like me, they were not immediately acknowledged nor were they invited to partake in the so-called fun atmosphere. Collectively, from the visual vantage point, it appeared that everyone behind the bar was more interested in who was immediately in front of them. At no time did anyone work the room...scanning to see if wine glasses were empty, or if guests needed any type of assistance. Could this be why they were running an ad...hmmm?

Leaving the winery, the young lady out front thanked me for visiting. Politely, the farewell was returned. Assuming that this day may have not been a good one...(this happens at wineries all the time), staff do get overwhelmed, time would be needed to mull over the experienced before deciding on what to write about. To recover from this experience, I made another stop at a nearby winery. The atmosphere at this winery was fun. The long drive was worth the effort to visit this area...until I drove more than half way back home.

There is always a chance to salvage a mistake. Humility and kindness, at least an effort to be kind, is usually appreciated. However, we cannot assume that everyone is one the same page when a chance to redeem a bad situation is intentionally avoided.

Previously, I mentioned that while standing at the tasting bar, one individual attempted to serve me, or to at least acknowledge my presence. He was rebuffed more than once, but he also did not put much effort into his attempt. This bothered me more than everyone else's blatant ignoring of my presence. Simple eye contact, maybe a smile...heck, stick your tongue out, thumb your nose...do something! He chose not to then, and he chose not to two hours later when I saw him at a gas station on the way home. He gave me the same darting glance, only this time, he recognized me for a fraction of a second. Instead of a smile or at least a nod, he lowered his brow into a dismissive frown, and again quickly diverted his eyes as if he did not want to admit that he had seen me earlier in the day. That was all the information needed to write this blog.

"Too good to be true?" No, it was not. On a scale of one to five slaps upside the head, I give it a two. One for the people who genuinely were nice, and that is a good thing,  and one for those who dismissed my existence...literally and figuratively. They deserve a slap upside the head!

Until next time, salute'

Karen