An Empty Bottle of Whine

An Empty Bottle of Whine

An Open Letter to Pappas Bros. Steakhouse

Dear Pappas Bros. Steakhouse and Those Involved with the Promotion of Last Night's Wine Reception Which I Did Not Attend,

Do. Not. Send. Me. An. Empty. Wine. Bottle. Promoting. Your. Wine. Tasting. Parties. Ever. Again.

Functionally, Andrea Grimes

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You see, late yesterday a long, rectangular box labeled with a "TIME SENSITIVE MATERIALS" sticker was brought to my office. Now, this box had apparently been waiting for me for some time, but had been misdirected in transit. I assumed that whatever it contained would be useless for temporal reasons.

But I opened the box nonetheless. And after I removed several inches of paper stuffing as dying rain forests wept fitfully into the canopy, my hand wrapped around a familiar object: the neck of a wine bottle. All was not lost! Wine is all about age. Or, some wine is. The kind I don't drink because it doesn't have "Yellowtail" on the front label and a $7.88 price tag.

Imagine my disappointment when I pulled the wine bottle out of the box to discover it was empty! Corkless! Devoid of delicious alcoholic content with which to drown my sorrows!

Instead, I held a light green bottle with an invitation to Monday night's Pappas Bros. Steakhouse wine reception honoring their new sommelier. (Her name, by the way, is Barbara Werley, who, says the media release, is "one of only two master sommeliers in Texas [and] one of only 15 female master sommeliers across the globe." Well, goodie for you, Barbara Werley.)

We get a lot of completely pointless promotional items here at Unfair Park -- like, oh, a hot pink hat box promoting the 50th anniversary of Funny Face, hellooo? -- but this takes the cake. Grape too.

And so here I sit with a wine bottle, not a bottle of wine, on my desk. Empty and useless, like this shell of a life I occasionally fill with booze and loose women. Today, the only thing my tummy is full of is disappointment. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to see if Wilonsky still has that bottle of Knob Creek under his desk. --Andrea Grimes


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