Like A Burnt Bridge Over Troubled Wine
i am a bit torn.
on the one hand, i know it’s best not to burn bridges.
on the other hand, no one likes rejection.
see, a few weeks ago, a fabulous IIF brought to my attention a part-time job opening: get paid to write a blog on a wine company’s* website. the only “catch” is that you had to write the blog from the perspective of the wine company’s logo.
so i thought, “hey! i write, i drink wine, i know marketing writing! i should apply!”
and i did. and after i sent my letter of inquiry, i was asked to write a sample entry. “cool!” i thought.
and now here’s where we run into the burning bridges part.
when Ish heard that they’d liked my writing enough to ask me to submit an entry, he went out and found two bottles of the company’s wine. and he brought them to my place for us to sample with dinner. because he is thoughtful and supportive and, well, it was an excuse to drink wine, you know?
he brought home a bottle of chardonnay and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. we started with the white. and even though i dislike chardonnays, i was determined to at least try and like this one, since it was possibly helping to fuel my new side-career as a paid writer and catapult me into blog stardom**.
Ish poured the glasses. we toasted. we sipped.
there was silence.
and more silence.
“oh my god,” Ish said.
if it is safe to say that i do not like chardonnay, then i feel it is safe to say that what i felt for this chardonnay in particular was…well, something like pure, unadulterated hatred.
i mean, i tried. i took one sip, and then took a few more, as Ish looked on incredulously. “are you really going to finish that?”
“it can’t be this bad, can it? it can’t!” i said, hoping against hope that maybe it was just me and my taste in chardonnay, and not that the wine was really bone-chillingly bad.
“i’m sorry, but this...this is undrinkable," Ish said. and then offered, realizing how disappointing this whole experiment was becoming, “hey, at least the cab has to be better!”
and of course you know what happened once he announced this.
Ish poured the glasses. we toasted. we sipped.
but there was no silence.
practically spitting the sip back into his glass, Ish proclaimed, “THIS MAKES THE CHARDONNAY SEEM...GOOD”
and he was right. it was awful.
of course, i wrote the best sample entry i could anyway, because i felt i owed it to myself to try. and so i received my inevitable rejection today.
so!
what have we learned?
*in the spirit of not completely burning bridges, i will not publish the name of the wine here.
**whatever. dreams come in all forms.
on the one hand, i know it’s best not to burn bridges.
on the other hand, no one likes rejection.
see, a few weeks ago, a fabulous IIF brought to my attention a part-time job opening: get paid to write a blog on a wine company’s* website. the only “catch” is that you had to write the blog from the perspective of the wine company’s logo.
so i thought, “hey! i write, i drink wine, i know marketing writing! i should apply!”
and i did. and after i sent my letter of inquiry, i was asked to write a sample entry. “cool!” i thought.
and now here’s where we run into the burning bridges part.
when Ish heard that they’d liked my writing enough to ask me to submit an entry, he went out and found two bottles of the company’s wine. and he brought them to my place for us to sample with dinner. because he is thoughtful and supportive and, well, it was an excuse to drink wine, you know?
he brought home a bottle of chardonnay and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. we started with the white. and even though i dislike chardonnays, i was determined to at least try and like this one, since it was possibly helping to fuel my new side-career as a paid writer and catapult me into blog stardom**.
Ish poured the glasses. we toasted. we sipped.
there was silence.
and more silence.
“oh my god,” Ish said.
if it is safe to say that i do not like chardonnay, then i feel it is safe to say that what i felt for this chardonnay in particular was…well, something like pure, unadulterated hatred.
i mean, i tried. i took one sip, and then took a few more, as Ish looked on incredulously. “are you really going to finish that?”
“it can’t be this bad, can it? it can’t!” i said, hoping against hope that maybe it was just me and my taste in chardonnay, and not that the wine was really bone-chillingly bad.
“i’m sorry, but this...this is undrinkable," Ish said. and then offered, realizing how disappointing this whole experiment was becoming, “hey, at least the cab has to be better!”
and of course you know what happened once he announced this.
Ish poured the glasses. we toasted. we sipped.
but there was no silence.
practically spitting the sip back into his glass, Ish proclaimed, “THIS MAKES THE CHARDONNAY SEEM...GOOD”
and he was right. it was awful.
of course, i wrote the best sample entry i could anyway, because i felt i owed it to myself to try. and so i received my inevitable rejection today.
so!
what have we learned?
- i am secretly a wonderful person. because even though i decided to write a sample entry even AFTER learning that the wine really should not be marketed to anyone lest it be actually sold to and drunk by the public, my SUBCONSCIOUS obviously refused to allow me to write anything good.
- also if you are going to actively try and sell yourself out, actively vie for a position as a shill, it is probably best not to sample the product in question at all. ignorance is bliss. and possibly a paid blog gig.
*in the spirit of not completely burning bridges, i will not publish the name of the wine here.
**whatever. dreams come in all forms.
they pay people to blog? who? earnest and julia el gallo?
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