I’ve been thinking about joining a wine club. But please don’t get me wrong. I don’t have any snooty aspirations whatsoever. I merely, humbly confess to being more than a bit of a wine moron. A wine club seems like it would make those purchase decisions so much easier. If I joined a wine club, I wouldn’t have to make a fool of myself in our local TipsyMart store … especially after that last horrid incident …

To tell you the truth, I haven’t set foot in the store since the incident. I’ve avoided it at all costs.

Other than staying away from the stuff with the screw-off caps, I’ve always had a tough time picking out the right wine. When I wander into the wine section, I spend more time than I should, largely because I have little clue of what I’m looking at … the Pinot Noir, Chenin Blanc, and Cabernet Sauvignon all get fuzzy to me. Heck, if I got away with taking golf as my college sports elective, why couldn’t they have worked in a one credit class on choosing wine, for Pete’s sake?

An online wine club would be better than a complete set of Cliff Notes.

So there I am … wandering aimlessly in the TipsyMart’s gigantic wine section, trying to complete a mighty assembly of libations for a holiday party. The shopping cart is already full of various six-packs (which I never seem to have a problem choosing).

But I just can’t make up my mind as to which bottles of wine to choose. As I roll the cart to a stop, a flashy label catches my eye. (I’m stupid that way. I like to look at the wine bottles with the cool labels.)

Well, I thought I had rolled the cart to a stop. Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. Maybe the floor was pitched. No matter the cause … the cart started rolling. I didn’t notice it until too late.

I turned just as the cart rolled into a display of Merlot (oh yeah, it had to be red). Boooof! One, Two, Three bottles teetered back and forth, in slow motion. I lunged to save the falling bottles. I got one … two … … only to watch the third fall in excruciating slow-mo towards the floor.

The impact was spectacular. Pooooooooshhh!

A huge red stain engulfed the white tile floor. A twenty dollar bottle of red bit the dust. The aroma filled the air. I stood there like the idiot that I am, the fallen bottle’s two brothers held in my arms.

A clerk showed up with a bucket and mop within half a minute. It seemed like half an hour. I must have looked pretty pathetic. He laughed and let me off the hook.

I weaseled my way over to the checkout counter and high-tailed it out of there as fast as I could. And I haven’t been back since.

So now, an online wine club seems like my last, best hope …