I made the fatal mistake of going on a date at a wine bar a few days ago. It's always a terrible idea to go somewhere you don't normally like going on a first date. It's bad enough meeting someone for drinks, as if the presence of alcohol can somehow counterbalance the fact that neither of you could come up with something more amusing than sitting at a table to interview one another. Wine bars are the absolute worst possible location for a date this formal and uninspired.
Wine bars are corrupt temples of conspicuous consumption. They're about appreciating the arcana of labels and the security of assimilating with the dictums of some higher authority's assurances of "quality." The fundamental snobbery of only serving wine is a kind of passive-aggressive apologia for even having to stoop so low as to serve alcohol in the first place. I enjoy drinking wine, but I don't think it needs to be its own exclusionary activity, taking place in metropolitan back alleys with names that invariably involve the word "hotel."
Read More...