I had a customer at my wine tasting room, and I walked her and her group around and explained the whole process from vineyard to fermentation to bottling, and at the end, she stopped me and asked:

Customer: “So… when do you pour the alcohol in?”

Me: “Uh, we don’t add alcohol, ma’am. As I explained, the fermentation process, when the grapes are crushed and pressed, via the introduction of yeast, the alcohol happens naturally.”

Customer: “Naturally? That means, it just happens on its own?”

Me: “Well, we still have to do all the processing, but—”

Customer: “—You’re telling me that the alcohol in the wine happens on its own? Like, it just comes from the grapes? Then why the f*** are we paying so much for it?! I thought you were all adding the booze into it to make it worth the price, but it comes for free? F*** this! Wine is a scam!”

She was shushed by her friends but seemed very upset for the rest of the wine tasting experience.

Related:
Grape Expectations

I work at a winery. A customer has wandered into the tasting room. He’s been rude and brusque to the reception staff (and possibly a little sexist).

Customer: “So where do you grow your grapes?”

I turn around and look through our enormous balcony windows that overlook our vineyard.

Me: “You see those two hundred meters of vineyards that you had to drive through to get to this tasting room? There.”

He was less talkative after that.

I used to work for a winery in California back in 2004-2006. Our 800 number was very similar to both the State of Connecticut tax division and Dell Canada’s French tech support. We’d occasionally get people who misdialed asking about their tax forms or angry Quebec residents screaming in French, but it was really no big deal. We figured it out, laughed about it, found the right numbers, and would give them to people when they called. Most people would laugh, apologize, and that was that.

One year, we started getting a LOT of calls for the Connecticut tax division. I got concerned when one person said that they received a tax form, and our number was listed on the form. I looked, and sure enough, someone in the tax office had put our 800 on the form. We called the tax office, but they were basically “oh well,” so we just kept referring people to the right number. Again, most were cool… until the old man called.

I answered the phone:

Me: “Thank you for calling [Winery], how can I help you?”

Caller: “I need help filling out this tax form.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. You want the Connecticut tax office. You’ve called a winery in California.”

Caller: “Okay, so transfer me.”

Me: “Sir, I can’t transfer you. I’m at [Winery] in California.”

Caller: “I don’t care if you’re on vacation! Transfer me to someone else!”

Me: “No, sir, you called [Winery] in California, not the tax office.”

Caller: “Yeah.”

Me: “So, I can give you the right number.”

Caller: “Just transfer me.”

Me: “Sir, I can’t…”

Caller: “I’m tired of this! I want to talk to a supervisor!”

Me: “Sir, again, we are not the tax office! We are Our Winery in California! The tax office printed our number in error on their forms. I can give you their number, but no one here can help you because we are a winery, not the tax office.”

Caller: “Okay.”

Me: “Okay… so you’d like that number?”

Caller: “And then you’ll transfer me?”

It went on like that for five more minutes until he finally realized what I was saying. He did apologize for wasting my time, said he’d call us back to order wine, and hung up. The next year, Connecticut printed the right number on its tax forms, and we rarely got any calls after that.

I used to work at a winery, and you were NOT allowed to bring outside alcohol to the place; it was literally illegal in the state, and we would get in trouble. If we saw you, we’d call you out.

A group sits down, and they get some wine. I see that they’re eating – this is allowed and encouraged because we only have basic cheese tray stuff at that time – and I peek through the window to the outside patio, just to make sure everything is going well like I normally do. I see they have beers, so I step outside.

Me: “I’m sorry, but no outside alcohol is allowed.”

They seem a little jarred by this even though I am calm, quiet, and polite.

After we close, I’m doing the closing tasks, and we get a call. I pick up, and this lady starts yelling at me.

Caller: “You really embarrassed us in front of everyone earlier! You used to allow outside alcohol before!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but that is not true. That’s why we make those announcements when we see someone has brought in outside alcohol.”

Caller: “I’m going to call back and complain to your bosses!”

After a while, I just lowered the phone and occasionally lifted it to say “uh-huh” type stuff while doing tasks because these people were NOT going to make me late.

Finally, as I am finishing the closing tasks, the bosses show up and look quizzically at the phone, off the hook, sitting on the counter.

Me: “That’s a customer calling to complain that I embarrassed them by telling them they couldn’t drink the beers they were having here earlier. I can hear that she’s still going.”

One of the bosses nods and picks up the phone. He interrupts her after a minute.

Boss: “Hi, this is the manager, and you’ve been “put through” to me. I’ve been made aware of the situation that you broke state law by consuming outside alcohol on our premises earlier?… Yes, breaking the law… Yes, so how shall we go about pressing charges? Should we use just the name on the credit card used to purchase the wine or would you like to ensure all four members of the party are included?… Hello?… Hello? Huh, they hung up for some reason.”

As a pretty small place, the bar/restaurant area of our winery didn’t have a host. There was once a “Please Seat Yourself” sign, but we had to move it to make room for more wine for sale, so it kind of wandered off.

Those of us who worked there made it a point to greet people as they came in the door as much as possible – we were still pouring wine, waiting tables, doing tastings, cleaning up messes, etc.

Occasionally someone would pop up at the bar to ask if they could sit anywhere, and if anyone looked particularly confused, we would ask if they were there to enjoy some wine or just shopping in our gift shop.

Every weekend we had live music, so as people started to trickle in for the show, some would go ahead and grab tables, others would wait to the side for the rest of their party, etc. The owner of the winery would head to the floor to direct traffic so we could keep serving and get everyone ready to enjoy the show. When the shows started, the lights were turned down, making things like pouring flights of red wine at the table pretty much impossible. We let customers know that they should do the bulk of their ordering before the music started as they sat down.

In comes a trio of individuals who have never been to our establishment before. As I happen to be walking by, I greet them, and ask:

Me: “Are you here to see the show?”

Customers: “No, we just wanted to see what the winery was about.”

Me: “Fabulous, welcome, our gift shop is over here and wine to go is along that rack. If you’d like to join us for Tunes McTunerson tonight, I encourage you to grab a table before they’re gone; go ahead and choose any open seat.”

The owner of the establishment was standing behind me, and more or less echoed my greeting as I zipped off to take care of other tables.

But, as a server worth at least part of my paycheck, I kept an eye on this trio. They did, in fact, wander through the gift shop. They explored the wine to go. And then they went back to hovering by the door.

One by one, my coworkers approached them and asked them if they needed assistance in the course of working the floor. Each one received a non-committal:

Customers: “We’re just here to check things out.”

My coworkers and the owner again remind them this is a popular night, so if they choose to stay, they’ll want to grab a table fast. At some point, they even obtain a menu so they can see if our food looks good.

Eventually, the seats are filled. The owner has even set up some additional tables in low-traffic areas. We have all essentially forgotten about this trio, as it is just minutes to show time, and we’re trying to get last-minute bottle and food requests out to the floor before things get started.

As the lights dim and the musician starts greeting the crowd, one of the trio approaches the bar.

Customers: “This place is too crowded, and no one wants to help us. There’s nowhere for us to sit, so we’re leaving.”

And that’s exactly what they did.