I Got 99 Problems, and the Wine is One. Hit Me.

Every time I head to the local grocery I pass through the beer aisle. Not only because it is Aisle #1, but I still cannot get passed the awesome-ness of being able to buy beer in grocery stores. I hate that about you, Pennsylvania. Each time I move through shining sea of frothy delicacies, I see a sign for $2.99, full-size bottles of wine, in your choice of Chardonnay or Pinot Grigio. I know what you’re thinking, the only thing that could make this more Jersey is White Zinfandel.

Here is my issue. I’m familiar with wine enough to realize that you can get fairly decent wines at low price points if you do your research. You can find $20 wines that taste like $45 wines, etc. My problem is that $2.99 is such a low price. I don’t know how these guys cover operational costs with such a low price. It has to be a terrible wine, right? They don’t make any red wines only refrigerated whites. That should be a clear giveaway, right?

You’re probably saying, “dude, it’s three bucks; just buy a bottle and throw it away when you realize it taste like caramelized man-toes.” To which I would respond, “dude, watch your attitude. First off, Rahm Emmanuel sucks and there’s an almost 12% booze tax in Chicago, so that makes it more like $3.50 a bottle. Secondly, even though it’s such a minimal investment, who buys a $2.99 bottle of wine.”

I’m no snob by my calculations, it is merely a common sense issue. One would assume by the you-get-what-you-pay-for postulate, that a product with such a minuscule asking price would have to be not only lacking in quality, but downright inappropriate to serve to even your least favorite guests.

Then again, what if it is a hidden jewel, waiting to be exposed by a suitor willing to sequester his pride? The diamond in the rough? The Williams sisters in Compton? The Black Jew? It could be the finest wine my palette has ever been introduced to. I may be retarding my happiness by not slurping the ambrosia within. Who knows? This may be the wine that was supposed to be served at my first wedding, or better yet my first divorce (I’m just playing the odds, take it easy you romantics!).

If I breakdown and purchase the aforementioned libation on a future excursion to the market and it happens to be putrid, oral malfeasance, I will feel used and abuse, like Michelle Duggar’s uterus. By the way, Congrats on baby #20. Besides the enormous refund check you must get for having twenty dependents, you now have the peace of mind knowing that even if you have 13 screw-ups, you’ll still have seven kids to take care of you when you need them most. But, on a serious note, 20 children is insanely awesome. I hope TLC pays well, because college tuition is a motherfucker! I hope geniuses don’t run in your family because it’s going to cost you about $8M to put twenty kids through Harvard Law School.

Well, I believe I have gone off on a tangent. Regardless, I don’t know if I will ever buy that $3 bottle of wine that tortures me ever so. If I ever go missing you will know that I bought a bottle and instead of enduring the embarrassment of knowing that I got duped, I will chug it and jump into to Lake Michigan never to be seen again. At least by Americans. I figure if I manage to float to Canada, I can’t come back to America. I’ve talked entirely way too much shit on Canada over the years to admit to going there voluntarily.