Friday, May 25, 2007

Sweet.

So I interviewed for that job at the winery last week. The owner is this nice old guy, probably in his late sixties or maybe seventy. He's in good shape. This guy talked to me for about an hour, he slid a legal pad across the table and told me to take notes, and I did. So he's supposed to call me last Monday, says for me to call him if my phone doesn't ring by the time I have to leave for work. I called and he wasn't available. Normally that's not a good sign, keep in mind that I spent over an hour with this guy, you can get a feel for someone in an hour. I'm thinking either something came up or he's yackin' with somebody willing to listen. He does have a lot of interesting things to say, he's led an interesting life and he sure knows a lot about grapes.

The position that I applied for requires the ability to work in the vineyard, something I don't know very much about but the Old Guy assured me that that's not a problem. I would also be required to operate some equipment, a D-4, (a small dozer) a backhoe, stuff like that. It's a year round job so I would be asked to perform maintenance on the equipment and the buildings, not a problem. He liked me, at least he said he did, and he wants to hire me, at least he said he did.

So on Tuesday I take a ride over there, ten miles of blacktop followed by two miles of well maintained dirt road past some Amish places, pretty drive. So on my way in I pass some Amish guys who are standing out next to a shed by the road, nothing strange about that. I noticed something however, one of those small details that didn't go undetected by this trained observer. The Amish guys were drinking beer, twelve ounce cans of Busch Beer to be exact, and they were smoking cigarettes.

So I get to the winery, the Old Guy is out back sitting in a golf cart talking to this big mountain man looking guy. I'm introduced to the mountain man, he's The Winemaker. Sure don't look like a winemaker to me, almost broke my hand when we shook, I tried my best to break his, it's a guy thing. I'm really not sure what a winemaker is supposed to look like but I'm pretty sure most of them don't look like this guy. So the Old Guy tells me that his manager had hired three new guys the previous week. The Old Guy says that puts them at twenty-four employees and twenty-four is their limit. I'm absolutely positive that my disappointment did not show, I'm good that way. So the Old Guy says "we are very interested in you", among some other things he said. The Old Guy says that an opening will probably become available soon, The Winemaker smiled. I got the feeling that someone is getting fired. So the Old Guy says I should sit tight, they will be calling, The Winemaker smiled again. I shook the Old Guy's hand, thanked him for his time. I shook The Winemaker's hand, this time I got the grip. You know the grip, like when you're arm wrestling, the grip is the key. Yeah so I got the grip, like getting the drop, on The Winemaker as I smiled and said it was nice to meet him. The Winemaker smiled back, I can tell that if I get this job we are going to get along just fine.

So now I'm driving back, past the beer drinking cigarette smokin' Amish dudes and two of them are gone. The one remaining Amish guy has a can of beer and a pack of smokes sitting on a stump next to his work area, it looks like he's cutting up old railroad ties. The Amish guy acknowledges my passing with a nod of his head as I drive by, again something didn't quite fit. Utilizing my incredible powers of observation developed through years of training and experience I detected the anomaly. This Amish dude was using a friggin' chainsaw. That's right, a gasoline powered two cycle chainsaw. I had The Band crankin' through the three good speakers in the old Jeep, I turned it up a little louder to drown out the buzz of the Stihl, and I still can't believe what I saw. A friggin' Amish guy using a friggin' chainsaw between beer breaks. Oh man, "The shape I'm in".

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