Costco. Yes, I walked into one and found this kind of outstanding little setup. It was right in the middle of the store, seemingly being the fulcrum point for every shopper. I orbited the giant mass of alcohol with the same wavering anticipation as everyone else. Only I was in pure awe.
There was A LOT of liquor. By my estimates, the section took up nearly fifty-percent of store. That number may be exaggerated due to my severe reaction, which was a kind of shock––one kind of excitement only hedonists get when seeing something that can alter their state of mind.
To me, this was the equivalent of the cops coming to your house, sitting you down as you ask them “little Billy did what?”
Amazing to me, as I paraded up and down open crates of domestic and foreign wines with my mouth hung upon, was that I and I alone was the only one appreciating this. I looked in everyone last one of their damned faces and found…nothing. Worse than nothing: complacency. One of these people, a woman of screaming-three red heads, was able to pick up a bottle of Argentinian malbec in one blithe movement. This seemed to me to be a strange behavior that I have only seen some rare moments of my life.
One of these moments was at a family party, someone else’s family party that I had only joined only because I had happened to drop of a fruit cake my mother had sent me to deliver at the wrong time. I was escorted in and I was never to return in my original form. There, serving up a roast, was a newly made mother who served us stew. Attached to her breast, and puckering its lips so gently, was her baby suckling. So suave and confidant…and progressive, was this move! Only when you see such an action (to a repressed mind) is when you realize it was never wrong to begin with.
A second example is more lurid. But I can tell you it involves biological functions. No need for that, now. We have Costco to discuss.
Being from Utah, my Costco was sans liquor. I was never a fan of Utah’s liquor monopoly to begin with. And, we can be frank, no one but the state legislators have. But I’ve never cheated by the scheme until I walked into a California Costco. There was all this liquid gold at great prices they had centered right in the middle of the store; some of them even bothered to have the appearance of ‘something intriguing.’
And Costco provided this service? This selection? Surely, there have been tales…but nothing more than mere myths!
And, what’s this I hear from the rather fair and incorruptible woman from Member service? “The Kirkland old vin zin’s actually pretty god-licking-good.” Is this the wrong damn world I woke up in today? Did my mind and muscles get together before waking and unanimously decided “We’re going to let this guy have a good day today. I think it’s his time. He’s often sweet, despite his bad habits like leaving the cupboard drawer open without reason or leaving the toilet seat up. Or spending far too much time on…But let’s let those go for now.”
But we need to get back to Utah long enough to say:
“Hey, go to hell. And, although my home-sickness for you is damned crippling at the moment, you have disappointed me for the last time. I have exulted in the other side, and it would much too hard for me to depart with it now.
I can do nothing but wag my finger from my new adopted state, but, rest assured, I am wagging it deeply and vigorously indeed(!). I could have left with many bottles. But money is strange conception in my life right now. It’s like this thing that existed, but I can’t quite remember the texture. It’s like putting your hand is silly putty and getting a shiver because of how wrong it felt, but, upon reflection, you can no longer recall the feeling after age twenty-five.
It’s also a lot like that dream you had last night. Don’t remember? It was the one about the cat, the hill and how you chased it…for…for..and then your Grandpa had this daisy, but it was…some damn color…and then your leg cramped, waking you up, just as you ran in a race where a dragon…
But I counted the twenty-four bills in my wallet, high-fived a random shopper with the shortest skirt I’ve ever seen, and went for it. My arms were soon humorously full of bottles…not to mention the Hayao Miyazaki film I saw on the way out, that I could not help but grab.
Now, had the woman up at member service somehow deceived me? Was this Kirkland old vin zin worth a divinity attributed zin worth writing mother a lengthy letter about? I had also taken a Argentinean wine for the obvious reasons; Argentinean wines are almost impervious to lackluster winemakers (Truth?). That, and the bottle looked hefty. The environmentalist in me hasn’t spoken with me since.
Two wines of interest follow:
2012 Bodega O. Fournier Malbec Urban Uco – $7
A nose that is both delicate an unpromising. It smelled Red.
In the mouth there is a hint of dissatisfaction when it comes to the sweetness. Granted, it is not overbearing, rather it’s a distraction. There is a presence of favorable wine essence that slithers its way across the palate. A good value for the $10 and under price that (at least Costco) sells it for. Worthy.