by wnissen » Mon May 02, 2011 1:10 am
I volunteered at the local wine festival, mainly out of curiosity to see what it would be like on the other side of the tasting room counter.
My partner and I were pouring two white wines, a pinot grigio and a sauvignon blanc. The number one question people asked was "Which one is sweeter?" Maybe it was because the festival is an all-you-can-taste event, but no one asked about appellation, how they were vinified, etc. I poured about 400 one ounce samples during a three-hour shift, and I think one person asked about the alcohol level. A few asked how much a bottle cost, or where to buy them, information that was not provided to us by the winery. Almost no one asked any questions at all, except to ask for the pinot grigio instead of the sauvignon blanc, at about a 3:1 ratio. People know what they like.
In fact, what was most striking, besides the utter lack of curiosity of the patrons, was how everyone assumed we worked for the winery. It was a reasonable assumption, given that we were standing underneath a sign that read "Cedar Mountain Winery," and pouring on their behalf. Nothing could be further from the truth, though I tried hard to do a good job as their representative. Volunteers received an hour of training, mostly about how to adhere to the liquor license and city ordinance, and no training whatsoever about the product. Most of the people I talked with volunteered because they thought it would be fun (it was) and because we got free entry to the festival, not to represent a specific winery. I did research on my own, as encouraged by the organization putting on the festival, so I would be able to intelligently answer potential questions (though nearly all those questions went unasked). I don't mean to single out Cedar Mountain, a winery whose ports are well worth a try if you're ever in the Livermore area, they are good people who have been around for a long time. I think if I ever ran a winery I would have trouble delegating and letting anyone else be my "brand ambassador."
My faith in humanity was bolstered by my experience, for sure. I interacted with hundreds of people, many of them buzzed, and only one person was less than civil. In fact, many people said please and thank you. The only irritating behavior was patrons asking, "Don't you have any red?" As a matter of fact, no, we don't, and it wasn't as if I chose the color of the wine myself, anyway. Please take a look at the bottles next time before you come up and ask stupid questions, and feel free to step five feet to your left or right to the adjacent table pouring a zin or merlot. Almost all of the time I found it easy to keep a pleasant expression and treat every customer like I was happy to see them, but the folks who blamed me for their predilections made it difficult. My liberal arts education had, to date, omitted any retail customer-facing employment, so it was fascinating to me.
Those of you who are behind the tasting bar, you have my respect. Just keeping enough wine open, at the correct temperature, and checked for soundness was enough to keep me busy (and buzzed, if I hadn't been spitting). Being pleasant and knowledgeable on top of that during a five or more hour shift takes an admirable level of energy and coordination, day in, day out. Thanks to you all.
Walt
Walter Nissen