Wine Not

I went to my first interview here on Pico Island and for a bit of context, this was my second interview of my 20+ years of past employment. The signs were all there on why I should NOT be going... I woke up this morning with a very bad headache, I took advil and was able to sleep some of it off but never fully got rid of it. I set out my 'interview outfit' which was a pair of brown slacks with a black top. I figured since Kevin was driving me to the location (using Tia's car since I don't drive standard and we aren't picking up my car until tomorrow) that Zeus could come along for the ride. When all the dog hair began flying around the vehicle, I quickly regretted that decision. The GPS took us to an address that was not correct. This made me frantic and completely took away my buffer on getting there early. I embarrassingly called the nice lady that was meeting with me to say I was lost which was the exact moment we found the place and she stood looking at me through the large floor-to-ceiling glass doors of the main building as she hung up her cell phone. It was at this time that Kevin accidentally reversed into the stone wall (he told me this afterwards and he thought we saw him or at least heard him when he said the 'f' word quite loudly). Apparently Tia's car rolled back too far and the parking area was very tight. We will need to fix her bumper and Kevin would have gotten out to fix the rocks that fell but he didn't want to ruin my interview before it started. The company I was interviewing for was a very reputable and popular Winery. The lady was very kind and I had been told they needed english speaking personnel. I had submitted my resume in english and I had received a same day reply (written in fluent english) to come in for a meeting. Unfortunately for me, the interview was in portuguese and it seemed that the nice woman had not read my resume at all. I did my very best to speak my most best portuguese all while paying close attention to her words, trying to find the pauses where I was being asked a question. It didn't help that our meeting was in a wine cellar of sorts, where the lights were on a motion sensor so every so often we both had to flail our arms to get the lights to turn back on. The last time someone spoke to me - one on one- with the speed of this lady; I thought the man had said his father was eaten by an octopus. To this day, I have no idea what actually happened to that man's father and whether a sea animal was involved or not. I did feel compelled to tell the woman that I don't drink wine, or any alcohol for that matter. She told me that wasn't a problem, that they would train me and teach me about their wines but I thought I also heard her say that I need to taste test because my job would be to run the tastings twice a day. Then I thought I heard her say the training would start soon, this month, but then she said I would start in February. I tried speaking to her about the wage or salary but the answer I received was that they pay above minimum wage and it would be re-evaluated based on my responsibilities. I wasn't sure how to end the meeting, things were friendly and awkward all at the same time. She asked for my cell number and I gave it to her and then I said if she is still interviewing and she finds someone better suited; I would be fine with that. Her reply was that sometimes the better suited person isn't the right fit, she is looking for the whole package, presentability, personality, personability and charm. I felt I was all those things except I can't be sure I understood a single word she said. I am literally stringing this story together with a third of the information I felt I took in. When Kevin came back to pick me up, he wasn't waiting on the property (probably because he was afraid of the cameras that might have captured the property damage to the rock wall). I walked away from the large glass front doors, towards the vineyard path and tried not to laugh hysterically - just in case the lady was watching. It was my first interview and I will wait to see what comes of it.