VINO BLANCO
We needed a good recommendation, but the lady behind the counter was otherwise engaged in an unending discussion about the state of affairs in town. According to what we overheard, there was not only a disgraceful situation brewing in the council chambers, but there was also an issue with the plowing contract, as well as the current landfill management contract.
All we wanted was a nice bottle of white to go with our meal. We were still about an hour out from our destination and had been forced to look up a nearby location with an app on my wife's cellphone as we cruised along the snowy highway. This was where we landed and despite the engaging conversation, we could also see that our humble servant was also casting an anxious eye towards the wall clock. We were about three minutes out from closing time.
The cashier glanced our way, and I attempted a quick wave in her direction, but she turned back to her friend feigning oblivion.
Accepting that we were on our own, we turned to the shelves before us, conveniently delineated by country. The problem was, we were both red wine drinkers, and the white market was fairly new to us. We scanned the myriad labels, doing our best to make sense of the nonsensical names displayed before us.
There were things like "frog's hump", "fish water", "flamingo bay", and more. None of them made any sense really. I was starting to get frustrated, and we were starting to run low on time, so I turned back to the cashier prepared to call out to her. to leap and shout until I gained her attention.
I heard her discussing a neighbour who had hit a snow-covered stump on her way to work forcing her to miss a full day at the office, and I did, my eyes paused on a label of white right in front of me.
It made sense and I pulled two bottles off the shelf and made the way to the front counter with my wife. Sometimes you need a small moment of spontaneity.
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