Too Much Wine

When has anybody ever said, “Get some wine when you go to the store, but not too much. 

Well, my wife has occasionally said that, but she just likes to tease me. “Oh! Okay. How much is too much? I held my hands out like I was measuring a northern pike.

Apparently, two cases is the maximum monthly buy you can make in Missouri. That’s right, any more is too much, even during the holidays. I didn’t know this until yesterday, when I tried to buy thirteen bottles from an online wine club. While checking out, a message came up in red font. Things written in red are always really important.

Your state legislators say you can't have this much wine.

Shipments to this region have a per customer volume limit of 2 cases per individual per calendar month. The volume will be calculated from combined onsite and offsite sales.

Not believing what I read I pushed the buy button and my sale was rejected. I re-read the message from the Missouri legislators and still did not believe the message written in red. So I pushed the buy now button a second time, but my purchase was again rejected. With my face contorted I said. “What the hell?” 

Just then my wife, Mimi walked in the room. I explained the situation saying I’m restricted from buying more wine this month since I reached the maximum allowable purchase. 

She cocked her head. I told her with the wine I bought earlier this month plus this current purchase exceeded the monthly allotment allowed in Missouri. Mimi was as puzzled about this as me. She doesn’t even drink wine, but she was annoyed that the government could tell us what we were allowed to buy. 

I said. “I know, and it’s the same legislators that legalized pot. I wonder how many cases of pot you can buy in a month?”

“I don’t think pot is measured by the case, but I get your point.” Mimi then said. “Can you buy it as a gift? You should call them.”

I dialed the number of the wine club. They put me on hold. So, while I waited I tried to buy it as gift, but ‘No joy’. When the wine guy came on the line I explained the problem and asked if my wife could buy the wine without setting off red flags with the Missouri legislators. He checked my account to verify that I have exceeded the two case limit since I bought 13 bottles in the first part of the month which was considered two cases. Rounding up, I guess that’s government math.  Ha! I should try that with taxes. But, he was able to get my wife on the account. So, my wife would be getting the wine, maybe she’ll share it with me. 

All’s well that ends well, but this made me think. How can this be enforceable? It really can’t because I can as much wine as I want at grocery stores. No one keeps track. It’s another annoying government rule to control the citizens for no good reason. I would rather the government be concerned about murders, carjackings and all the crime running rampant in downtown. 

“Just Saying”

Message from Mom

I’m waiting for you

Don’t be afraid

You’ve done your best

I’ve been watching from above

It wasn’t always easy

But worth the time

Your kids are grown and happy

Now it’s time for you to be with us

We have all missed you

There’s nothing else you need to do

Life is a journey

You have past the test

What's in a Name?

Writing is Hard and Sometimes Reading is too

 

Punctuation can be critical when writing a story. A reader can miss the point if a sentence is misread due to a missing comma. Inserting commas in the right place has never been my strong point, but I’m getting better and occasionally I even find an error when critiquing someone else’s work. Sometimes this confusion with commas can result in a funny outcome. 

Last week a friend of mine read his story, but I was confused because a comma

was missing. It was silly on my part because even without the comma it was obvious what he was trying to say. I interpreted an expression as some weird character name. Once I realized my mistake I had to laugh, and decided I needed to write a short story about a guy with this odd name. So, here you go. The story title is “What’s in a Name?” Please forgive me if I have any missing commas.

What’s in a Name?

 

I was meeting my potential new employer at Starbucks. Coffee’s a perk that makes people feel comfortable, even when they’re not. It gives them something to do with their hands. I ordered a regular coffee and a breakfast egg and cheese croissant. The barista handed me the coffee and said he would let me know when the sandwich was ready. I picked a table by the window.

A forty-ish-looking man walked in with a sour look on his face. I hoped this wasn’t

the guy who was going to interview me. What I didn’t need was some know-it-all, grim-faced bastard telling me how great he and his company were. He went to the counter and ordered a coffee. Something fancy, it appeared, since he waved his hands and fake poured. Then he walked over to where I sat. 

“Are you Chris?”

I stood. “Yes, are you with Wealth Strategies?” I extended my hand.

“Yes, I’m the face of the company and do all the interviews.” He shook my hand. 

“I’m Grim.”

“I’m so sorry. Did you get caught up in that traffic jam?”

He looked puzzled. “No. What traffic jam?” He repeated. “I’m Grim.”

Now, I was confused. “Yes, you said that. Why are you grim?”

“Blame it on my parents.”

“Oh! So you still live with them?” I sipped my coffee.

“No, of course not. I’m a grown-ass man. Forty-two years old.”

“Don’t let your parents get you down. No need to be grim.”

Just then the barista called out a name for a coffee pickup. “Order up for Face.”

He stood up and went to the counter to pick up his coffee. 

Did the barista say Face? Is this guy’s name Grim Face? Holy shit! What were

his parents thinking? I giggled inside. Hold it together.

He returned and sat down. “We should start the interview, I have another

appointment in an hour.” He handed me a business card. 

I snickered and put my hand over my mouth when I read his name. “Yes, Grim,” I

grinned. “Let’s get started.”

“You seem to be distracted. Is there something wrong?

“I’m sorry, it’s your name . . . it’s unusual.”

“Yes, somewhat. Grimley is unusual, but combined with the last name, even more

so.” Grim sipped his coffee. “It’s a great conversation starter.”

I snorted my coffee. “It certainly will get people talking.” I opened a sugar packet.

 “So, how am I doing so far?”

“Don’t make any big plans.” He fidgeted with the spoon. “Your name is unusual

as well.”

“Mine, really? I love my name.”

Over the loud speaker, I heard, “Order for Mas, Mr. Chris Mas.”

The young girl sitting next to us smiled. I winked. Grim Face walked out the door.