Wino in Tenino

Excitement for an event you have never been to is a very weird feeling. I am going to the Wino in Tenino and from what I hear; it is a very pleasurable experience. I find that most things with the name “Wine” —or some other variation of the word—is almost always a guarantee that good times are to be had. My friend and I are attending on the coattails of my husband who has to work the event.

His work always interests me because he is a beer salesman. He is the closest thing to a legalized drug dealer the free world will ever know. He makes friends easily and although I find him charming, I do find it peculiar that the ears of men perk up when they learn of my dashing husband’s profession—he suddenly becomes a God right before their eyes.

Beer, wine, liquor—it’s really all the same in that it assists you in having either a really great time or an awful and miserable experience. I find that people who really don’t have much of a personality tend to go for the hard stuff. This way they can be drunk faster and thus, become rapidly interesting if only to themselves.

Lightweights who tend to get in a lot of trouble when they drink (read: men) normally go for the beer, microbrews, or malt liquor (think OE or Mad Dog 20/20). It takes a while to get a buzz going and if the person tends to do stupid things, there is always a greater chance they won’t get to that level until the party is damn near over. Then, at that point, nothing the beer drinker does will matter because no one will remember anything—accept the designated driver (read: wife/girlfriend/female) who will mop vomit off the center console at the end of the night.

Finally we get to the winos. These people are true alcoholics. They are refined, yet love to be in a constant state of drunkenness in which wine is about the only medium that can sustain them. Sure, if they pounded the vino, they would be right alongside their hard A friends, but if they drink too slowly, they end up in the beer drinkers/lightweight category. This of course all funnels down to the basic principle that wine drinkers are the only true and professional alcoholics. They get it done—not to mention with class, sex appeal, and sophistication.

So as I think about the Wino in Tenino, I smile because I know I belong with all of my fellow wine lovers.

Welcome home, Dacia, Welcome home.