The irony that I started working in a liquor store just a few weeks after Noah died is not lost on me. Where else would I come in contact with such an endless parade of lost souls while still collecting a paycheck and using my knowledge of grape varietals and appellations? Where else would the lost soul I was when I first started, feel so at home?

Technically it is a wine and spirits store. But that really is just a nice name for a liquor store, isn’t it?

Let me introduce you to a random smattering of my top seven souls, lost and otherwise, I’ve encountered…

1. He’s a walking heart attack. Once a day, two 1.5 liters of Woodbridge Chardonnay. He’s sweaty and paunchy but professionally dressed. I think this giant bottle of wine may be his first thought when he wakes up every morning. As we exchange hellos and $22.42…