So, we’re at this fancy French restaurant the other night, right?
Just finished peroosing the cart doojer, breathing in the ambien, enjoying the mill-yo.
When this guy comes up to us, out of the blue, and (get this) claims to be “Our Somalian for the evening” — and starts selling us on some upscale wine. Goes into a whole back and forth about what we’re thinking of ordering, what color wine we like and such.
I was taken aback, to say the least.
Not for nothin’, the guy didn’t even look African!
But then he got to talking about regions and varieties and pairings and so on, and I was all … “M’kay. Tree bien!”
Next thing you know, we’re rocking a bottle of Shannon Blank that was out of this world.
Color me converted! I am a Somalian wine expert skeptic no more!
more surreal madness
