The Case of the Long-Winded Wino

On advice of some friends, I attended a wine tasting. Go, they said, drink good wine and chat with sophisticated women who will find your quirky sense of humor, well, funny.

The next day I found myself walking into a new wine shop called Pearls Before Wine. At first I thought the name was just a play on words, but then I realized the pearls in the title were what one had to pawn to pay for the wine.

I picked up a bottle with a fancy label, which quickly attracted a clerk who asked, “Are you a fan of the Lucien LeMoine Grand Cru2003 Corton Charlemagne? A bargain at $395.”

“2003,” I said, sliding it ever so gently back onto the shelf, “Oh no. I never drink my Charlemagne unless it’s fresh—at least 2007.”

His top lip quivered before he said, “You must be here for the free wine tasting. Right this way, sir.”

I walked up to the tasting bar to find zero sophisticated ladies and one portly man, who looked anxiously as the sommelier said, “Gentlemen, let’s begin with this charming Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand. You will notice the slight hint of black current that interplays with the taste of asparagus.”

He poured us each one microscopic ounce, which did not appease my co-taster.

“A little more please, mon frere,” he said, tapping the edge of the glass.

The sommelier reluctantly poured us both another ounce, which I swirled in my mouth like they do in movies, before swallowing, tasting neither the black current nor the asparagus, though I did detect a hint of white wine.

My partner, on the other hand, downed it in one shot and screamed, “Woo hoo, that was tangy.”

Suddenly I liked him.

“Hi, I’m Ace Insura.”

“Howdy Ace, I’m George. What do you do for a living?”

“Insurance.”

“Insurance?” He said, as he slammed back the next pour. “You need to drink to follow that twisted logic.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Try this one on for size. During a wind storm, a tree branch breaks off and lands on the roof of a house, damaging the roof and chimney. The insurance company claims the damage is caused by wind. But I think the damage is caused by the tree branch, a falling object. Who’s right?”

“George,” I said, “I don’t think you’ll fall for my answer.”

Why would Ace prefer a glass of Riesling over George’s reasoning?

For help solving this mystery and to check your solution against Ace’s, click here.

Jonathan Hermann (hermannism@gmail.com) is an IA contribution editor.