There is a prize for the most painful pun, right? As our esteemed “goodwill ambassador” the drunken “cyclist” so eloquently expressed it in his reminder post, I am finding this prompt difficult, but my butt is now in gear (said in my best American accent). Thanks to last month’s winner, the “sweet” sommelier (a misnomer if ever I heard one, she’s clearly an evil genius) for setting such a fiendishly difficult challenge this month.
What’s the biggest stroke of luck you’ve ever had? For me, it would have to be meeting my husband (aaahhhhhhhh). After years of Bridget Jones-style disastrous dating of commitment-phobic public schoolboys (the English, posh, emotionally damaged kind), big knickers and drinking bad Chardonnay, I finally met a man prepared to marry me. The lucky part? My sparsely-filled social diary made the prospect of a work night out with a local firm of accountants sound appealing and my (Technical Architect) now-husband was attracted by a text from his accountant friend that asked “do u want 2 meet 10 female solicitors?”. (Note to any American readers, in England a solicitor means a kind of lawyer. I fear that it might mean something different in the States, but don’t be alarmed.)
Wine was consumed that evening, but none of it good. However, as my husband has for a number of years now been my faithful companion on our tour of Planet Vino, I don’t think that mission would have got off the ground without him.
As I write this, I particularly need good luck. After spending the last 20 years working in the legal profession, I have an interview to become a wine advisor at a highly-respected local independent wine shop. After getting to my age without racking up any experience in the wine business, I’ve taken the leap of faith to start applying for wine-related roles, but will I find anyone prepared to take the similar leap required to offer me a job?
Perhaps I should have thrown myself into celebrating St Patrick’s Day: drunk green Guinness, kissed a shamrock and rubbed an Irishman (that is good luck??) but I was too busy marking essays on the English Legal System (aided by Chardonnay, now the good stuff; I have grown in some ways).
I think that the biggest stroke of wine-related luck that I’ve ever heard of is the Master of Wine (Bob Campbell MW) who adopted a cat (Mr Wu) who could detect cork taint. How lucky is that? The only cat in the world who can detect cork taint adopted by a Master of Wine? Or can all cats detect cork taint, but only demonstrate this talent (by grunting, apparently) when exposed to large numbers of wine samples, some of which by the law of averages will be tainted? I’m rambling; clearly a sign of nerves about my upcoming interview.
Oh, I’ve just remember another stroke of alcohol-related luck I once had. I won a bottle of Pomagne on a Pomagne Wheel at a school fete (yes, that does sound inappropriate to me too, now I’ve put it on paper). This memory has prompted 2 questions: 1) can you even get Pomagne any more? 2) was it a British-specific aberration, or did its popularity escape off our island? In case you don’t know what I’m talking about, Pomagne was a sparkling pear cider-type drink that was marketed in the 1970s as “champagne cider” until nos amis at Bollinger took the makers to court to stop them using that name. I once spent the early part of a wedding reception wondering why I wasn’t remotely feeling the effect of the fizz, until I checked the bottle to discover that it was low-alcohol Pomagne. Not my luckiest moment, but things are looking up.