In the Twilight Zone of Wine Jobs

The afternoon felt like a weekend. I’d never been good at being idle and this place was already making me crazy. Then we heard voices: loud, rambunctious chatter echoing off the covered entryway and projecting excitement. We hurried to the door just as a group of seven twenty-something guys and gals strolled through the deep shade of the passageway.

White Trash Grenache and Yo Nouveau!

White Trash Grenache and Yo Nouveau!

Our current thinking was to make our fictitious wine brand super elegant and refined, along the lines of the wineries that employed us, but Greg wasn’t having it. “Why are we trying to create a stylin’ package when, let’s face it guys, we don’t have any style,” he argued. He wore a purple tee-shirt that said “Lick my Bung,” which emphasized his point exactly.

Daydreaming in a Dead Tasting Room

Daydreaming in a Dead Tasting Room

The building’s façade is so sterile I imagined it repelled more tourists than it attracted. The corrugated metal siding made the place look like a hardware store and the tasting room like a doublewide trailer. Even I wouldn’t have visited myself there.
Finally, I saw customers drive in and my daydreams drove out.