No Need to Get Fruity
When Cameron was in mixed red's land, let my Cameron go.
"Hello. May I help you?"
You can sure as hell try. Hi. I'm Cameron Hughes. Mixed reds, three. Case of 6.
"You're Cameron Hughes?"
That's right. I'm Cameron Hughes.
"The Field Blend of California?"
Yeah. That's me. I'm also the Mendoza Malbec of Argentina and the Lodi of Zinfandel.
"Listen, young wine. Entre nous, I'm very busy here. Why don't you take the grapes and go back to the vineyard?"
Are you suggesting that I don't have a deep violet color and aromas of cherry and plum?
"I'm suggesting that you leave before I have to get fruity."
"Listen young wine, either you take the field blend outside, or I'm going to have to call the sommelier."
Fine. As a matter of fact, I'll call him myself.
"I've had enough of this horsing around. Give me the wine opener back."
You touch me, I yell sexy fruit bomb. There's another wine opener around here, find it.
"Wonderful. I weep for the future of wine making."
Psst. Ma'am. When the maitre d' comes back with the sommelier, ask for the Cameron Hughes.
"Bonjour, Madam. How can I help you?"
May I please have a glass of Cameron Hughes, the Field Blend of California?
"Cameron Hughes? Let me check the restaurant. Can you describe it for me, please?"
Silky tannins. Smokey nose, concentrated palate. Devastatingly multifaceted.
"Ergh … yes, Ma'am. Right away."