WINE FIGHT

Tonight I fight a bottle of wine.

It all starts out innocently enough.  A bottle of Barefoot Refresh Pinot Noir has been sitting in my fridge for about two weeks.  I know, I know.  Pinot Noir on ice?  But, it's the Refresh brand, bubbly and light, and it begs for a chill because it's really a blend of grapes and, when I put on my glasses I realize that it's actually a spritzer.

Pinot Noir Spritzer?!  Oh, for crimeny's sake.  Spritzer is supposed to be in the fridge.  Well, well -- look who did something right for a change.

The bottle is a twist-off cap.  I never have a problem with corks (except champagne or anything that intends to shoot my eye out).  Twist caps are so easy even babies can open them, right?  I attempt to twist the cap.  It refuses to budge.

Crap.  It's the kitchen faucet debacle all over again.

I examine the cap attachment and wonder how long it will take me to saw through the metallic ring with a serrated steak knife.  With my luck, the knife will slip and slice open one of my arteries and I will literally suffer death by wine.  Next, I try one of those floppy rubber openers, the gripper kind, but I'm still not making any progress.

This whole affair is now starting to royally piss me off.  I am a reasonably strong person.  I have decent biceps, have been known to lift boxes full of textbooks over my head, and I can still throw a credible o goshi if I have to.  I cannot believe that this damn bottle defies me.

I have small hands, though.  Sometimes I just cannot produce enough torque for a simple task like this.  I do, however, keep a pair of ratty old leather gloves for such occasions.  I put on the gloves and get better grip of both the bottle of wine and its cap.  I twist in opposite directions simultaneously.

Nothing.

I decide to combine the leather gloves with the rubber lid gripper.  I do not hold out much hope at this juncture and I toy with the idea of not having any wine at all.  Of course, this is completely nonsensical.  After the day I've had, there's no way this bottle is getting the better of me.  With a sharp intake of breath, I prepare to squeeze the living daylights out of the bottle.  The battle is on, and I am so going to win.

Easily and without pomp nor circumstance, the cap twists free and the bottle is open.  Just like that, the battle is over.

I don't need the gloves to pour the spritzer into a glass, so I clean up my work station before settling in for the evening.  Kind of ironic that a wine so difficult to open is named Refresh because right now I am feeling anything but.  It's certainly not the best glass of wine I've ever had, but after the work that went into opening
it, it's the best glass of wine right now.  That's all that matters.