Geoffrey’s affinity for cheap wine has been the driving force behind the success of Freedom Creek Cabernet. It would not be an understatement to say that Freedom Creek’s Regional Supply Chain Manager follows Geoffrey’s movements with a cell phone tracker, lest product go unsold if Geoffrey were to take a vacation. Summer found Geoffrey powering through at least two 1.5 liter bottles per day, every day. When that volume of sales stops happening there surely will be a backup of unsold cases that start to clog the aisles of the local Store of Many Bottles.
One particular evening, the nightly campfire commenced well before dinner, and the firewater was flowing both freely and rapidly. No one knows for sure how many bottles were uncorked, but let’s just say that it was more than one and less than eleven – and this bottle count is just for Geoffrey, not for the other souls who were also enjoying the fire.
As the night progressed and starlight began to overtake the sunset, the other attendees of the campfire began to notice a gradual decrease in Geoffrey’s coordination and ability to speak the King’s English. In fact, it was marveled upon the rapid progression he’d made in his probable Rosetta Stone course of Iraqi-Navajo, and his apparent mastery of that ancient dialect.
As mankind has done since the invention of the campfire, animated discussions amongst those gathered are entered into, usually about subjects of little importance but great interest. Geoffrey being Geoffrey, he considers himself to be an expert on whichever subject he is currently pontificating upon. Sometimes this is true, and sometimes, not so much.
Copyright © 2020 J.J. West. Campfire Tales.
All Rights Reserved.