It’s easy to feel out of place at a wine tasting, but don’t worry. Just stick to these these talking points, and you’ll have everyone convinced you’re basically a younger, sexier Timothy McVeigh in no time!
1. “Thank you for inviting me to your wine tasting. The Oklahoma City bombing took place at exactly 9:02 a.m. in the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building on April 19, 1995”: So, you’re at a wine tasting, and of course, everyone around you is pretty much a sommelier. But by mentioning a few key moments from the Oklahoma City bombing, you can make everyone around you think you know everything about one of America’s most infamous acts of domestic terror! The exact location, date, and time of the attack are great details to sprinkle into conversation over a cold glass of sauvignon blanc, and will instantly convince fellow tasters you’re a certified Timothy McVeigh-head. Then, to seal the deal, mention the model of the car that exploded (1993 Ford F-700), or the number of casualties that occurred (168 dead, and more than 680 injured)—small details make all the difference!
2. “This wine is even older than Timothy McVeigh was when his parents divorced”: Are you sipping on an aged wine? Perhaps an aged cab or a merlot? Well, if you end up drinking something bottled more than 10 years ago, casually mention that your wine is older than Timothy McVeigh was when his parents split, and watch the eyes of everyone within earshot widen. If your wine is a real vintage, just swirl your glass, take a sip, and say that McVeigh died at the age of 33 by lethal injection. You know what they say! Fake it till you make it!
3. “When Bill Clinton started to develop heart problems, doctors prescribed him a glass of red wine a day. Also, many people believe Clinton knew about the bombings beforehand and signed off on them”: Okay, time to break out the big guns. Say you find yourself trapped deep in an intense conversation about the complexities of grape fermentation, etc., and you’re feeling lost. You haven’t said word one about Timothy McVeigh yet, and you’re worried that people are starting to notice. Just when you start to feel yourself zoning out, grab a bottle and say that Bill Clinton actually planned the Oklahoma City bombing and personally contacted Timothy McVeigh asking him to do it. After that, people won’t just think you’re an Oklahoma City bombing expert, they’ll think you’re a conspiracy-theory expert. But beware: While phrases like “John Doe 2 is still out there” or “The Arabs were behind it” can be powerful tools, your fellow wine tasters might push back, so be ready to defend them. Who knows, if you talk a big enough game, people might even think you’re some kind of disgruntled former FBI agent who’s gone rogue against his own government?
4. “The fertilizers used to grow these wine grapes could have been used to build McVeigh’s 2,000-kilogram bomb”: No matter how much you know about the Oklahoma City bombing, as the night progresses, you risk being judged by tipsy tasters. At that point, abandon the hard-to-remember Oklahoma City-bombing casualty numbers or the intricate conspiracy theories, and stick to explaining different types of fertilizer bombs! Not a wino in sight will be able to keep up with your knowledge of explosives, and you might even teach them a thing or two about ammonium nitrate. And remember: ANFO stands for “ammonium nitrate/fuel oil.” McVeigh didn’t forget, and neither will you!
5. “I celebrated the Oklahoma City bombing with this exact wine after I watched Timothy McVeigh do it April 19, 1995”: If you use this cheat sheet, everyone will leave your wine tasting believing you’re experienced in all things domestic terror. But to cap things off, just pour yourself a glass of wine, take a small sip, and say you were McVeigh’s right-hand man, “John Doe 2,” and it was your idea to bomb the building from the very beginning. You fought alongside your old friend in the Gulf War, you bought the 1993 Ford F-700, and you were the only one who got away. See, wine tasting doesn’t have to be scary! Now go out there and crush it.
