Beware the Wrath of the Wine Snob

I had a dinner party several weeks ago for some friends, and one of them decided to bring along a bottle of wine as a gift to me. When I met him at my front door, he thrust this chilled bottle of battery acid at me and said, "I decided to pay you back for all the wine you've served me during the past few months."

I was flabbergasted. I have never served him fermented spit, so why did he feel the need to pay me back for services not rendered? Being a Southerner, I nodded politely and thanked him for his gift. (It went straight in the trash after he went home.) Then, I realized that the poor soul actually thought he had given me a nice bottle of vino, although the screw-on cap and the detergent container shape of the bottle should have given him a clue.

When I repeated this story to several other Wine Snobs (we conference each other in occasionally to discuss auction prices for prime vintages), several of them said it was my own fault for inviting such a Neanderthal to my home. I explained that, actually, he was a nice fellow, and he did mean well (although shelling out a meager $8 is hardly the definition of generous). He just didn't know a good wine to pick. In fact, he must not have known whom to ask either. ...