Trying to Find Zen Among Middle Aged Men.

One thing I like about the wine industry is that there is an infinite amount of knowledge to be had, and I get to learn something new everyday. My job, often, is to answer questions. I don't expect that anyone who is not employed in the business would be able to do so, but I am often impressed by how much more "hobbyists" know about wine, and I love learning from them. That said, if one more person asks me a question as a vehicle for them to launch off on how much they know, interrupting me in the process, I am going to crack some skulls.

I try to remain humble in this business, as I can't possibly know everything, but when someone asks me a question and then interrupts me so they can hear their own voice, I want to walk away and find something heavy to brain them with.

So, I'm sitting at the "Genius Bar" at the local Mac Store trying to not lie in order to get a new Ipod and I see this same phenomenon occurring for the poor schmuck doing his best to provide "customer service." People are just plain rude, getting in his space, asking questions about bathrooms and Ipod cozies and he is treading water on his college degree, making retail wage despite his diagnostic powers.

It takes a while to get help, but I am patient and drop a few snide comments about the folks he has to deal with. I am rewarded, an hour later, with a new Ipod and his cynical smile. "I don't want to know what happened to this." I sign papers, I back up my hard drive and feel rewarded for the patience that all of those middle aged men with a whole lot of nothing to say. Still, if someone else asks me if the "French red from the Rhone" I offered them is from France, I will be irate.