At a wine merchant’s the regular taster died and the director started looking for a new one to hire. An old soldier with a ragged dirty look, came in to apply for the position. The director of the winery wondered how to send him away. He gave him a glass to drink. The veteran tried it and said, “it’s a Muscat, three years old , grown on a north slope, matured in steel containers. Low grade but acceptable.” “That’s correct,” said the boss. Another glass: “It’s a Cabernet, eight years old, a south-western year slope, oak barrels, matured at 8 degrees. Requires 3 more years for finest results.” “Correct.” A third glass: “It’s a Pinot blanc champagne, high grade and exclusive,” calmly stated the veteran. The director was astonished! He winked at his secretary, secretly suggesting something. She left the room and returned a few minutes later with a glass of urine. The veteran tasted it “It’s a blonde, 26 years old, three months pregnant and - if I don’t get the job - I’ll name the father.”
I knew as soon as I had posted that reply that someone would ask that question. People are so predictable...
