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Killing the retail experience

December 29, 2014

Running into a specialist wine shop and telling the assistant, “Flog me a bottle of wine, about ten quid, don’t care about the colour, I need to leave here in 2 minutes,” wasn’t a good start.

The bloke sauntered over to a rack of bottles and as he reached out to pick one up I said, “Great, that’ll do.” But he hadn’t even picked up a bottle.

I realised I was a bit quick off the mark so, when he touched a bottle I said, “Oh, it’s red! Mmm, I’ll take it.”

He looked at me like I was an idiot, and then sauntered off behind the counter with the bottle.

As he was rolling it in paper, I asked: “Tell me something about it so I can sound knowledgeable.” I thought it would be funny to say that.

The assistant kind of sighed and said it’s a good wine, Sicillian and then described the different kinds of Sicillian grapes.

I paid and darted out the shop saying: “Thanks for helping me out. See ya!”

Pretty sure the assistant turned to his boss who was zipping his anorak and mouthed the word, ‘Dick’ as I left.

Filed in: Personal

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