Damn The French!!!
So usual night, some tables good, some the usual fools...
I go up to greet my latest victims, once again country folk.
Now I'm from a small town and I love people who are prejudiced, hell they amuse me.
As the saying goes, I'm not prejudiced, I hate everyone...
Well I greet my table of rubes.
(For those of you in NYC they're the same as those from acrossed the bridge)
"Folks would you like anything to start out with? Perhaps a beer?"
Usually I do the wine sale, but as a business student I know all about demographics.
I'm ready for an answer of, "Ya'll got Cooooooors?" when the unthinkable happens.
The gentleman asks a recommendation for a red wine, I'm thinking Lambrusco but I go into my Red Zin and Pinot Noir spiel.
He looks dumbfounded,"I don't care what it is, as long as it isn't French!"
He responds further,"I don't support their kind!"
Hell I don't like them either, frog eating surrender monkey non-tippers...
But I dislike hicks even more.
A wicked smile blinks acrossed my features.
Most of our wines are Italian, California and Australia...
But there is one French Merlot, Red Bicyclette.
"Sir do you like merlot?" I query.
"I dunno, ok, as long as it isn't French!"
"Sir, would Red Bike be ok?" I call it by its nickname.
The wickedness returns,"I'll be right back with your merlot."
I deliver as promised, he tastes it and looks so satisfied.
Truth be told, I am too.