I accompany Betts to the restaurateurs' table.
"What sounds fun?" he says, clapping his hands together.
The two men look at each other. "How about white Burgundy?"
"Terrific!" Betts says.
I follow him back to the cooler, where he gives me the background on the men. One is a guy who likes fast cars. "This guy's all about conspicuous consumption, so he's going to want something expensive. I'm thinking four figures. I mean, he's not gonna say he can't afford it."
After looking at the wine list, Betts chooses a $595 bottle of Corton-Charlemagne.
"$595?" I ask.
"Yeah, that's pretty lenient. They'll get it next time around."
Betts empties the wine into a decanter and then pours me a taste before bringing the decanter to the table. The wine is a delicious blend of vanilla, butter, and almonds, with a touch of mango and warm pear.
I'm sorry. I don't normally talk this way. But spend a few days with wine people, spend a few days sipping and swirling and changing your wine glass with each new pour, and you too will descend into a kind of sublime geekiness. And you'll love it.