Christmas has come and gone, and, as is typical for us, Kathleen and I opted not to get gifts for one another. Instead, we tend to purchase one or more joint presents for ourselves (or jet off to somewhere fun like New Orleans). This year, in an effort to achieve true and complete yuppification with which only a very few can compete, our joint present was…a wine fridge.
I’m self-aware enough to understand that this particular Christmas gift came with just a modicum of shame—nothing says suburbanite snob with a little too much disposable income better than wine and its related accessories. But damn it, I love my new wine fridge! The wine that comes out of it is so cool, so refreshing, so…luxurious!
I often laugh, too, at just how much I’ve come to enjoy wine. It’s like there’s a wine switch inside you that someone flips during your mid-thirties, and, suddenly, wine goes from being an occasional dalliance to your go-to drink of choice. We drank wine with basically every meal when we were in Europe, and now the first thing we look at when we go to a restaurant is the wine selection. Wine also makes me feel warm and sleepy—the perfect kind of old man drunk.
2017 has been a banner year for us in our goal to reach full annoying yuppie status. Think of the annoying boxes we’ve checked this year:
- Took a trip to Europe – The gold standard of yuppiedom.
- Made everyone we know look at 1300 photos of our trip to Europe – Closely related to the above point.
- Bought a wine fridge – Bonus points for writing an annoying blog post about buying a wine fridge.
- Started a self-indulgent blog – Game, set, match.
I’m probably forgetting some other annoying accomplishments, but you get the idea. I’m not sure what 2018 has in store for us—probably not another trip to Europe unless we win the lottery—but I do know one thing: my fucking wine will always be the perfect goddamned temperature.