“Ah, how the seeds of cockiness blossom when soiled in ignorance.”― Steve Alten, The Loch
I knew enough to leave him alone when he was tasting. He usually brought a consort with him, to provide cover. I observed they liked to keep to themselves, to draw little attention to any observations they made about the wine, the venue or the other wine buyers in the crowd. Segundo’s lack of confidence saw to it that he was duly shielded from anyone who might know more about Italian wine, or wine in general. He usually avoided me in those situations. I would ease the sail in order to provide him with ample room for his maneuvering comfort.
I found out that his wife kept him on a short
leash. I didn’t know the dynamics of their relationship, or their history, but
one would think if you were in the wine trade and someone with a lot of keys to
open a lot of doors invited you to Italy, all expenses paid, that one would
jump at it. But he didn’t. I wondered why.
Feliz took a deep pull from his Macanudo and told me a little story. “Do you remember when I worked with that large French importer and I had a huge entertaining budget? Well, one Saturday night, at 11:30, Segundo texted me and told me he wanted me to meet him at the Landing Strip, the gentlemen’s club near the airport. His words, and I can remember them as if it happened yesterday, ‘Meet me there Feliz, and bring your expense account. You want a by-the-glass feature? I need a lap dance. You want the house champagne? You know what I'll need for that.’ I’ll never forget it. But that was the price one had to pay if you wanted Segundo’s business. Italy? He doesn’t need to go to Italy, and his wife won’t let him go anyway. But buffing the knob, after hours, from a pole dancer? That was the way in, my friend.”
I thought to myself, “That cocky little bastard. How dare he conflate his carnal needs with his professional duties. He is obligated to make the wine business profitable for his employer, not as a scenario for his self-aggrandizement.” I told Brad, my boss, we wouldn’t be taking Segundo to Italy, ever. Period. Brad caught my drift.
When I started down on the wine trail in Italy, I didn't foresee things like this. I loved Italy and Italian wine, everything about it. I thought others saw it that way. Boy, was I wrong. I was finding out some people used their power and position as an access point for their social network, and beyond. This was not in the manual I was given (and yes, I was given a manual). But it seemed, the lay of the land, and the rules, had changed. Had they ever!
