Ewww...
The other day I was at my friend Julie’s house eating dinner (including Brussels sprouts…I’m such a good boy). I noticed that on the counter there was a bottle of white wine. I thought, hmm, I wonder what it is. I went to investigate, and read with disgust: “Garlic Flavored Grape Wine.” It was bottled by a winery in Gilroy, the Garlic Capitol of the World. In spite of being disgusted by the label, I was curious what it tasted like. My friend’s mom told me that some friends gave it to them. “Try it,” she said as she retrieved a glass, “It’s quite interesting.” I reluctantly took the glass and smelled the wine: it was definitely laced with garlic. Actually, the garlic was possibly laced with wine. I took a sip causing my nose and lips to curl in wrinkled disdain. But I figured one should never judge on first impressions. It had to get better than this. I consumed half of the glass before I gave up, wondering what sadistic fool would produce something so horrid. I’m assuming it was created solely for the annual garlic festival; nowhere else could they manage to sell something so perverse. My friend’s mom congratulated me on consuming half a glass, for she had barely managed to down a quarter’s worth. I avoided talking to people in close proximity the next day for fear the evidence of the night before would be so profoundly offensive. Never again will I consume food or drink wrongly mingled with garlic. There is only so much it belongs with.