Total Whino

I went to Total Wine the other morning, 9:45 to be exact, to pick up a few bottles of kosher wine for Passover next week. I hoped they would have a better selection than the usual Manischewitz or Mogen David that I could buy at the grocery store, not that there is anything wrong with either of those, at least not after the first two glasses. Unfortunately, even Total Wine has its limits, and it had the usual square bottles along with the new fangled "cream" white and red concord wine http://www.manischewitzwine.com/products/Products.htm, in a trendier curvy bottle. I selected one of each and got in line to check out.



One can learn a bit by studying the other people buying wine on a Monday morning. I stood behind two other people in line, and while I waited, I glanced over their selections. The guy in the front of the line held a box of wine in each hand, by the convenient built in handle grips. He made a big production out of how much he saves by driving all the way to Total Wine for all his boxed wine needs, as clearly he was a value conscious individual. He left, happily swinging his boxes, eager to get started on them, probably while still in the parking lot.

The woman in front of me was also pleased with herself, since she was able to find an entire case of her favorite drug of choice, white zinfandel. I was surprised she could not locate it at her grocery store, as she too made a special trip all the way to this wine superstore. She had the look of a woman who secretly drank cheap wine like it was water, hiding it before noon in an elegant colored iced tea glass. And then I looked in my own cart, with the two giant jugs of kosher wine, both under ten dollars for the large size, never a good sign. I smiled to myself. I was no better than the rest of the lushes in line.

When it was my turn to check out, I started to laugh. The cashier asked, "What's so funny?" " I was amused by the wine selections in line this morning," I replied. "I bet it must be frustrating to sell such crap wine while surrounded by all these wonderful choices." He sighed, "You have no idea." "Well, in my defense," I said, " I am buying this for religious purposes, not for actual enjoyment." "Yeah, right," he added, handing me my receipt and my bag.

I think the four questions on the first night of Passover should be reworked to include this one: On all other nights, we enjoy pinot or a nice cab, but why on this night must we endure Concord grape and blackberry, the jelly makers? Maybe I'll bring it up with Elijah when he swings by for a little nip on Saturday.