Wine evening leaves a bad taste

I ALMOST died the other day at a wine tasting party - not from drinking, but from embarrassment. I made the mistake of bringing Willie along.

It all started when I told my wine merchant friend that the rave in China nowadays is mixing red wine with soda pop.

It would have been fine if the wine used was plonk, but in order to give face, sometimes they use Petrus or Lafitte.

My friend, the wine aficionado, almost choked on his cabernet sauvignon, and said that a little wine education for my compatriots in China would fix that.

Incidentally, he was hosting a wine-tasting session and my compatriots and I could come and learn something. I asked whether I could bring all 1.2 billion but he said to pick one. And of the 1.2 billion, I had the misfortune of picking Willie.

I like Willie. He is a fun guy but callous, uncouth and rowdy. Now I also know that he cannot hold liquor.

I am no expert, but I figured that I knew a little more about wine tasting than Willie did, so I gave him a crash course.

I sensed that we could be in for a long night when I found out that Willie just could not accept having to spit out the wine after tasting it.

'I thought we were invited for a few free drinks,' he said. I introduced him to the technique of exposing the wine to all parts of the palate in order to appreciate the fine art of wine-making.

He nodded knowingly, and said: 'Like using mouthwash, right.' Even while we were on the first bottle, I caught Willie cheating.

I noticed that what came out of his mouth after tasting was only a fraction of what he had taken in.

By the time we got to the third bottle, Willie's face was beefy red and he started to tilt his head back when he was tasting his wine (easier for him to swallow, I guess).

Then he smacked his lips and let out an 'Arrrrh' before he spat into the bucket. And as everyone else was gently spitting out the wine, Willie was spitting, period.

He was totally wasted by the time we got to the seventh bottle. He was loud and pushy, and was shaking everybody's hand and thanking them for the good wine and good time.

I tried to distance myself from him, but this was quite impossible because he came over every five minutes to put his fat arm around my neck, displaying camaraderie for the whole world to see.

I did not dare look at anybody in the eyes for the rest of the evening, and left with Willie (with said arm around my neck) without saying goodbye to anyone.

On the way home, Willie said: 'Let's do it again.' I said: 'Over my dead body.'