104 degrees and fifty Shirazes later...

"Dude, all I'm saying is - bring a toothbrush!"

My coworker, Don, had attended our importer's tasting at the DC Australian Embassy the day before me, and after three hours of gurgling, swirling, and then spitting red wines that each had 15-16% alcohol , those were his words of advice.

So this afternoon another coworker and I hit the road to DC to tackle the second day of the event. Because, you know, on the hottest day of the year, speed tasting through fifty Australian Shirazes is just what the doctor ordered. If only someone had been able to offer me a cigar, the whole day would have been perfect.

After driving around Dupont Circle for a good twenty minutes, we finally found a parking lot about four blocks away from the Embassy. By the time we arrived at the tasting, my feet had already swollen so much that my shoes felt like they were two sizes too small, and I had an incredibly attractive sweat stain on the small of my back that had my boss referring to my V-shaped "Shweat Thong" for the rest of the day. (Don't you love when somehow you slip into a big-brother/little-sister relationship with your superiors? I mean, how many people are allowed to call their bosses "fuckwad" and get away with it?)

Needless to say, by the time I had grabbed my glass and was finally tasting the first Verdelho of the day, it was all I could do to not grab the bottle and chug the refreshing, green-ish juice right down. However, I managed to control myself. Ahem. I am a professional, after all.

The next two hours were spent juggling a wine glass, water bottle, tasting notes, and cell phone (still taking orders for the day, mind you), attempting to decipher a difference between this huge, juicy red wine and the next one, flirting with the better looking of the Aussie winemakers, and all the while trying to note which wines you were going to push onto those clients who weren't lucky enough to be invited to drink amongst the dignitaries.

After the last table of dessert wines had been tasted, and the bottles were being recorked, my coworkers and I reconvened in the small meeting area for a short powwow on which wines had showed particularly well. While we were gossiping and trying to decide where to go for dinner, one of the higher ups in the importer started passing around six-packs of extremely chilled beer.

A collective "Ahhhh..." passed through the halls, for there is nothing like capping off a marathon tasting with a cold beer to cleanse the palate. All in all, it was a fabulous way to spend an afternoon. Who cares what the weather is like outside? I'll sip on those wines anytime - as long as the AC is cranking.