Yesterday I drove out to the east end of Long Island to interview for a job with an estate vineyard. The North Fork of Long Island is the largest grouping of vineyards in the world that are this close to so many of their clients. With Connecticut just across the Long Island Sound to the north, and New York City just over an hour's drive to the west, not to mention all the wine lovers that actually live on the island, the vineyards are extremely accessible to the public.
Vineyards on Long Island don't just produce wine. They are centers of learning, where tastings are held daily so that people can learn what makes wine taste the way it does. They are vacation destinations, as many of them have inns and B&Bs on the property. They host business dinners, weddings, and charity events. And of course, most importantly and deliciously, they make wine!
I was unsure as to the exact drive time I was looking at, somewhere in the range of an hour, I guessed, so I gave myself an extra half an hour of wiggle room when I left the cottage yesterday morning. It was a beautiful day, and as I got farther and farther east, and the farmland began to roll past my windows, and the cut flowers and vegetables began to appear at the roadside farm stands, I felt my tensions ebbing away. It had been a really long time since I was "out east" and since I've already accepted a position at the medical office, I was looking on this vineyard interview as a really nice Saturday morning drive out to the wine country, with the added bonus of a possibility of something better coming out of it.
A bit of panic was involved with choosing an outfit for this interview, as I had no idea whatsoever how someone working at a vineyard was supposed to dress. Corporate suits and briefcases seemed all wrong, somehow. I Googled "wine tasting room" and scrutinized the small pictures, trying to see what the tasting room attendants were wearing. In the end, I dialed the number to another vineyard and asked their tasting room attendant what she was wearing. (I told her I was interviewing at a vineyard so she didn't think it was a phone sex call.)
My research results? "Casual neat." So I chose a sage green faux suede button down shirt, worn open and layered over a lighter sage sleeveless knit, with my matte faux suede black pants and black leather heeled boots. I also darkened the doors of a hair salon (what a shock to my system!) and got myself an updated "do", long layers. It's about four or five inches shorter in the back now, but still hangs below my shoulders, so I'm digging it.
The one-hour driving time estimate was right on the button, so I pulled into the vineyard driveway exactly half an hour early. There was no one about, so I parked and pulled out my cell phone to call Bear and let him know I'd arrived. When I looked up again, there was a tall, nice-looking but very serious man with a graying pony tail walking hesitantly around my truck, keeping his distance as if he thought it might explode. I waved at him through the windshield, hung up the phone before Bear got a chance to answer, and got out of the truck to introduce myself. He was one of the owners, as it turned out, and he said that his wife was still inside serving breakfast to the B&B guests.
I wandered around for a bit, taking in the beautiful vineyard view and the blessed, all-encompassing silence of the place. Naught but a few buzzing bees and the call of a distant jay or two the entire time I was there. Bliss. Then I strolled up to the tasting room, which has a lovely deck, pergola, and gardens. I was in the middle of examining the butterfly bushes when the owner came back with his wife to start the interview. She was pretty - small, tan and slender, with a bare face and her brunette hair wound up in a bandana. They both looked to be about Bear's and my age, maybe a few years older. Both of them were wearing plain tee shirts, cargo pant shorts, and flip flops. We sat down on the beautiful teak deck furniture to talk.
At first, I have to admit I thought they were cold fish. Neither one smiled or made any sort of facial expression at all as I started to explain my life, my jobs, the choices that led me on the maze that resulted in my crazy resume. I had one of those moments where my mouth was moving, but my brain was examining the scene from the outside and holding a running commentary inside my head at the same time.
"They're not smiling. What's with these people? Are they stuck up? Did I wear the wrong thing? Do they hate me? What can I do to shake this party up?"
So I just let loose a bit and set my inner story-telling bard free. I told stories about my trips to Scotland, bits about my family life, and let my hands move. Suddenly, I looked up and saw the man actually smiling! The woman had crinkles at the corner of her eyes, and so I forged ahead, hoping it was good will and not gas pains.
Within a half an hour, they had completely opened up. I suppose, looking at things from their point of view, letting a complete stranger into your life's dream, your perfect universe, has got to be really stressful. These people were born in the midwest, met each other when they moved to California, and then decided to come east to The Big Apple to live their dream. The man is a chef, and the couple has owned several successful restaurants in NYC. This vineyard is their life-changing decision, their ultimate expression of all that's important to them. I suppose it makes sense that they feel vulnerable meeting a stranger that "wants in".
After talking to them for an hour, I felt as though we really understood each other. I saw what they really needed. They're not looking for a tasting room attendant. They're looking for someone who is willing to learn enough about wines to be an excellent tasting room attendant. Someone who, when the tasting room is quiet, can go outside and tend the gardens, and then go in to the office and get the bills, accounts receivable, and payroll in order. Someone willing to drive to NYC to make deliveries. Someone who will help during harvest time, roll up their sleeves and work hard. They're looking for me.
What am I looking for? A job where boredom is not in the lexicon. A place where I can really be useful, really belong, and do something I believe in. Something where I can go outside and breathe the air, teach people about something I love, and be a vital part of someone's dream. I've been looking for this place!
Like icing on the cake, the woman took me for a tour of the buildings after the interview had concluded. There was the wine making barn, with all its towering silver machines and twenty-foot-tall wooden barrels. The fermentation room, a silent boudoir of stacked wooden casks awaiting the coming harvest. The tasting room, a beautiful heartily-beamed room with a loft. The wine library, a room with seating space for twenty or so guests, one wall lined with bottles of wine from every vintage they've produced. And the B&B, a perfectly lovely place to spend a weekend. The place was built in the 1800's, and they have completely restored and refurbished everything, right down to the original wood flooring - too gorgeous to describe. The piano in the den was an Acrosonic - the same name as the piano I grew up learning to play on.
While she was giving me the tour, the woman really opened up to me. She became animated, smiled, and told me some personal stories of her own. She told me about how they came to be there, and showed me the sand collection her mother had left her - small glass bottles full of sand, labeled with every place her mom and dad had travelled together. It was beautiful and sad at the same time.
We talked together about tai chi (her practise) and yoga (my sometime practise) and the importance of taking care of yourself so that you are capable of taking care of the rest of your life. I asked her whether they used machines to pick the grapes, and she said no, the grapes are all hand picked as a part of their bio-organic way of farming. I mentioned that I speak fluent Spanish (most vineyard pickers are from Spanish-speaking countries), and she seemed very glad to hear that. When we went outside, she introduced me to two of her workers, and I spoke with them in Spanish. They seemed very glad to meet someone that they could really converse with.
All in all, I felt that the experience was a good one. Initially, the small insecure part of me was hoping that I would get there and find out that all they wanted was someone in a penguin suit to flog wine for ten bucks an hour, so that I could come home to my nice, safe, boring little job at the medical office. But the bigger part was hoping that I would get to the vineyard and fall in love with the whole place, and find somewhere that I could really open up and blossom.
Now, I have fallen in love with the place, and I have to endure the hours of torture until tomorrow morning to find out if they decided to hire me. They said they'd call me, or that I should call them if I don't hear from them (because they work 7 days a week, it's a farm, and stuff happens) to see if I'm "in" or not.
Of course, as an added touch, when I got home from the vineyard there was an email from yet another job I had interviewed for (one which I thought was a good opportunity but they hired someone else) saying that the person they had hired didn't work out, and she wanted me to come back for another interview. Sheesh! Feast or famine, I guess.
But I really want the vineyard job...
