The Drive

Love Geno Letter #278: The Drive

Today is day 10, and my stitches need to come out. But I painted today, worked on the farm today, and did just about everything except get the stitches removed. That will have to wait until Monday.

Now I’m in my old ’09 Lincoln, driving 25 miles with two bottles of Love Geno wine, trying to close a sale.

I took a bath and put on clean clothes and cologne, but I can still smell paint thinner on my hands. There’s paint on my arm that didn’t wash off. As I drive, I can smell the engine oil leaking from the car. That’s what this evening looks and smells like.

The last time, I let him try the blend, but it was too sweet for him. The white peach was too sweet, too. So I listened. This time I’m bringing the Cabernet and the Chardonnay. The dry wine is already selling at another restaurant. Now I’m going to see what happens here.

I think about the debate over what owners make compared with workers. Tonight, I’m thinking about all the work that happens before an owner makes anything. I worked all day, I’m still waiting to have my stitches removed, and I’m making this drive without knowing whether I’ll get the sale. I’m optimistic, like I always am.

If Love Geno is selling major numbers one day, somebody might look at the finished product and say, “He only got there because of this or that.” I want to be able to look back at this letter and remember today for myself: the farm, the paint, the stitches, the oil leaking from the Lincoln, and those two bottles riding with me.

I don’t know if I’ll close the sale tonight. I do know I made the trip.

Love, Geno 🍷