Gaze into my crystal ball, fair traveler, and let us pluck your destiny from the vine of fate.

Shh. Madame Imbibe cannot work with such distraction. Do not worry about telling me your name or why you are here. Madame Imbibe already KNOWS ALL!

Now then, I am seeing the land of your birth clearly now in my crystal ball. It is a land of much sun, yes? But also cool? Yes, I can almost feel the ocean breezes and fog bring a chill to my brightly-colored, yet very stereotypical scarves. Your birth was very special. Very special indeed. It is as if the very composition of the soil itself lent a hand in your making. And then you were smashed and placed in a French oak barrel for 19 months…

Ah, ah, ah! I am only telling you what the ball tells me. Perhaps it knows you better than you know yourself, yes? Hush now. Any more outbursts and I’m afraid my concentration will be broken entirely. Now then, where was I? Ah yes, your entrapment in a barrel. I see you changing, becoming more, how you say, alcoholic. Mmmm, yes, you are so much more full-bodied than you were before, with bright scents of strawberry, raspberry, kirsch, and blood orange on the nose, highlighted by notes of sage and herbs de Provence.

Sir, I tell you, the crystal ball does not lie! It is very clearly revealing to me your very intense berry and savory nature! Your eyes can not see the loam laced minerality of your heart like I…

Oh dear. I have made a slight mistake. It seems I may have polished my ball with the towel I used to soak up the 2008 Foggy Knoll Grenache I spilled last night. Heh. I do apologize, but what’s this?! The crystal ball now tells me you have a brother you didn’t… No, wait, that’s just the other bottle that came in the two-pack. My bad. So, uh, I’m guessing you want your fifty bucks back, huh?

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