Wine (Whine?) About It

Did Facebook Matt trademark that yet? I hope not. Congratulations on the win!

I finally figured out why I can never find great wine when I’m back home. Imagine going to the DMV to buy wine. That is what it is like in Pennsylvania, because the state runs the alcohol distribution. So, just like if you got in the wrong line at the DMV, if you needed a 6-pack and went to the case store, you are shit out of luck and need to go somewhere else. Womp womp. Also, no one that works there actually gives a fuck, because they are low-pay government workers. (But hey! They get like EVERY holiday and Sunday off… soo….) Except for the guys that work at the Yardley beer distributor, they are always really nice when I used to run in for a case of Yuengling.

Truthfully, I always knew about the separation of wine/liquor, 6-pack beer and case/keg beer, but for some reason I never put together the ridiculously commercialized crappy selection of wine until this year. Thanks, mom, for turning on the light.

I left PA when I was 19 and prior to that, I only accompanied some friends to the super hood corner store in Trenton, NJ ONCE and I bought a case of Corona and nearly vomited because it was a) dark out b) probably dangerous c) I was maybe 16 or 17 (and if you asked me then, of course I looked 21, but if you ask me now, ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY you do not look 21.) That’s why the boys buy the beer. We are no good at it. Anyway, it was a success and we drove back over the bridge and presumably got drunk and made bad decisions.

When I was older, one time I DID vomit in the store because it was 4th of July and everything in PA was closed so I hopped in the back seat of a hot car and a few of us drove from Philly to get supplies. I was with this boy I was seeing and another couple and (yay me) got sick from the disgusting smell of alcohol permeating the entire massive store thanks to my excessive consumption the night before, the raging heat and stop and go traffic in the car. I mostly made it to their back room bathroom. Gross.

I digress, per usual. Anyway as my mom and I were selecting wine for New Year’s Eve, I had my usual grumbling about the poor selection and how in New Orleans you can spend $15 and get something super delicious and at the store I go to they help you pick AND they keep track of things you bought in the past (blah blah blah… you get the idea. I’m sure my mom really enjoyed my tirade). Then, when we were leaving, I had a masterful idea that I would open up a boutique wine store there! Huzzah!! Problem solved. With the slight issue that I don’t know enough about wine so I’d need to find a sommelier to marry. (Insert funny/sort of mean-spirited joke about my sisters awful ex boyfriend and imagine me making the sound of slurping wine around my mouth.)

But then in comes mom with the dream crushing yet enlightening tidbit about how, previous issues notwithstanding, I can’t open a wine store anyway because it is run by the state, and they make a shit ton of money off of it, and be happy they’ve caved and allowed a few people to sell on Sunday. God’s day. (Unless you are Jewish.) AMEN.


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I have feelings, lots of them. I love to write, I love to party, and I probably have more fun than you do. Follow my blog to have all the fun with me.

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