True Modern Wine Romance
A lost Rosie M. Banks Story of Passion and Redemption
My name, well it really doesn’t matter, but it is time to tell the unvarnished and honest truth. I was born Emily Livingston, in a small town in the upper Midwest. I wished to better my somewhat dismal prospects, so I left my bucolic hometown and went first to State University and then to the complex metropolis of Chicago, the beating epicenter of the American Heartland.
I secured employment at First and Foremost Venture Capital - an aggressively up and coming firm- that demanded extreme dedication to its rigorous corporate culture. I happily bought into the all-encompassing maelstrom, as I was desperately trying to forget my hopeless infatuation with Joey, my childhood sweetheart, who had been deemed unworthy by my hidebound family.
It was intoxicating mid-Summer in Chicago. The days glowed with ethereal sunshine and the nights promised unimaginable erotic pleasures, well beyond my limited frame of sensual reference. Then, my Boss, Iago Scrimshaw, offered me a once in a lifetime opportunity. Calling me into his plush, ultra-private office, he stated his proposition: “We shall be entertaining a distinguished guest, Lord Stanley, coming from The United Kingdom of Great Britain. He is the scion of our wealthiest client family and a man of rare taste and refinement. Your job, Ms. Livingston, if you choose to accept it, will be to conduct him on a vinous tour of Chicago.”
On the one hand, how could I pass this opportunity for certain corporate elevation? But my desperation soon became palpable. On the other hand, how could I conduct a wine tour with an honorable descendent of generations of noble British families, one who would instantly perceive my lack of fine wine knowledge and then throw that back in my face, exposing my humble past?
The next day at the espresso station, I confided in Donna, the company savant, who knows everything. “This is my big opportunity, but what can I do to instantly expand my limited wine knowledge”? She responded with complete confidence: “You’ve come to the right woman, of course Donna knows the answer: it’s time to contact the best person for the job - Gilmo The Wine Pro, at Wine and Song Chicago”.
I took her advice and obtained Gilmo’s unimpeachable insights. Suddenly, I was an Instant Wine Insider and Never had to fear a Wine List Again.
Lord Stanley landed at O’Hare Airport and I met his patrician, world-weary glance, all the while noting his finely chiseled features, which vainly tried to conceal a secret longing and undefinable sadness. My heart was beating rapidly as I proposed my carefully crafted Chicago wine tour. His ardent response made my pulse race and my entire being sing joyously: “Miss Livingston, I presume, you have come back to me and all is well. Yes, I am Lord Joseph Albright Morris Featherstonehough Stanley VIII, your long-lost Joey, who has narrowly survived many harrowing trials and dangerous journeys to distant, far off, exotic lands, only to re-emerge as your demon lover, that which has been fated since the dawn of time. This wine tour is unimpeachable and I shall gratefully, enthusiastically and whole-heartedly rip your bodice at the earliest possible convenience, except not quite right now, as we are still in the midst of O’Hare Airport.”
Thus, true love - and good wine - once again conquered all.
