You stood behind the register as I walked through the door, you asked me if I needed some help, I said I wasn’t sure. I said I had a friend who just finished her paper and maybe she’d feel like celebrating later. But you could see in my eyes the depth of my affection and you said that you had a couple of suggestions.
So you showed me red and white and you showed me champagne, and you showed me sparkling wine, which is basically the same. But you could read my expression of scared hesitation and you said, "Wait, son, I’ve got one more recommendation. Don’t buy her anything, don’t try to be so pleasant. You’ll scare her away with all your smiles and your presents. Just say congratulations and be on your way, and she’ll want you all the more, just like they say."
Oh Lord, the door chimes rang in alarm as I walked out of the store, that bottle tucked under my arm. Never thinking it could ever cause such harm and that I’d turn her off when I turned on the charm. I wish I could recork it, replace the foil wrapping, and pretend this whole damn bottle thing never even happened. Oh why, of all things, did I have to ignore your words, why didn’t I back right out of your store?