Wine Reads by Jay McInerney

Author:Jay McInerney [McInerney, Jay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780802146717
Publisher: Grove Atlantic
Published: 2018-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

from SWEETBITTER

Stephanie Danler

There were tables in the back dining room set with stainless steel sheet trays and bowls so big I could bathe in them. Macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, potato salad, biscuits, an oily green salad with shredded carrots. Pitchers of iced tea. It looked like food for a large catered event, but my trailer handed me a white plate and started helping himself to family meal. He went and sat at a table in the corner without inviting me to follow. The staff had taken over the back dining room. They came from every department: the servers in aprons, people in white coats, women removing headsets, men in suits, tugging at ties. I sat near the servers, at the very last chair—it was the best seat if I needed to run.

Preshift turned out to be a turbulent affair. A frazzled, skittish manager named Zoe was looking at me, and it seemed like it might be my fault. She kept calling out numbers or names—things like “Section 6” and “Mr. Blah-blah at eight p.m.” but the servers talked right through her. I nodded deafly. I couldn’t touch my food.

The servers looked like actors—each perfectly idiosyncratic, but rehearsed. It all felt staged for my benefit. They wore striped shirts of every color. They were performing, snapping, clapping, kissing, cutting each other off, layers of noise colluding while I sank into my seat.

Howard walked up with wineglasses hanging like spokes from his hand. A young man in a suit trailed behind him with a bottle of wine wrapped in brown paper. The servers passed around the glasses with tastes of wine, but one never made it to me.

When Howard clapped his hands everyone went silent.

“Who would like to begin?”

Someone called out, “Pinot, obviously.”

“New World or Old?” Howard asked, scanning the room. His eyes fell on me for a second and I dropped my face to my plate. I remembered every time a teacher had called on me and I didn’t know the answer. I remembered wetting my pants in the fourth grade and thought that if he called on me I would again now.

“Old World,” a voice called out.

“Obviously,” someone else said.

“It’s old. I mean, it’s got age—look, it’s beginning to pale.”

“So we’re talking Burgundy.”

“It’s just a matter of deduction now, HR.” This man lifted his glass and pointed it to Howard. “I’m onto you.”

Howard waited.

“A little austere to be Côte de Beaune.”

“Is it off?”

“I was thinking it might be off!”

“No, it’s perfect.”

They stopped talking. I leaned forward to see who had said that. She was in the same row as me, behind too many people. I saw the bowl of her glass as she pulled it away from her nose and then brought it back. Her voice, low, ponderous, continued:

“Côte de Nuits … hmm, Howard, this is a treat. Gevrey-Chambertin, of course. The Harmand-Geoffroy.” She put the glass down in front of her. From what I saw, she hadn’t taken a sip. The wine caught the light rebelliously. “The 2000. It’s actually showing really well.

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