[FONT=tahoma]The Wine Taster[/FONT][FONT=tahoma][/FONT]
[FONT=arial]At a wine merchant’s warehouse the regular taster died, and the director started looking for a new one to hire. [/FONT]
[FONT=arial]A retired telephoneman, drunk and with a ragged dirty look, came to apply for the position. The director wondered how to send him away. They gave him a glass to drink. [/FONT]
[FONT=arial]The old ‘troller tried it and said, “It’s a Muscat three years old, grown on a north slope, matured in steel containers. Low grade but acceptable.”[/FONT]
[FONT=arial]“That’s correct,” said the boss.[/FONT]
[FONT=arial]“Another glass, please.”[/FONT]
[FONT=arial]“It’s a cabernet, eight years old, south-western slope, oak barrels, matured at eight degrees. Requires three more years for finest results.”[/FONT]
[FONT=arial]“Absolutely correct. A third glass.”[/FONT]
[FONT=arial]He calmly said, “It’s a pinot blanc champagne, high grade and exclusive.”[/FONT]
[FONT=arial] [/FONT]
[FONT=arial]The director was astonished and winked at his secretary to suggest something. She left the room and came back in with a glass of urine. The contoller tried it. “It’s a blonde, 26 years old, three months pregnant, and if I don’t get the job, I’ll name the father.”[/FONT]
