"Can I help you find something?"
"Do you have any Local Vineyards Cab Franc in the 2009? I don't think the 2010 is as good."
"Well, Local Vineyards don't really work that way. If they've released the 2010, that means the 2009 is gone. I can call The Winemaker and ask him if he has any 2009, but it's doubtful."
"That would be great. I wouldn't want a whole case of the 2010, but if you can get the 2009, I would buy it."
"I really don't think we're going to find a whole case of 2009, but I'll see what I can do."

I send an e-mail to the LV, and in response I get a message saying that he has one bottle left, that he had intended to drink, but that he would be happy to sell it to my customer instead. But, it being a long drive from the vineyard to the LG, would I be kind enough to order at least a couple cases of wine to make it worth his while? Let me get in touch with the customer and get back to you, I write.

I leave a message for the customer.
He leaves a message for me, saying that he doesn't want a whole case, that he really prefers the 2009 and that he only wants the one bottle. I am not going to make them drive here for that, I think to myself, erasing the message and going on to the next. The very next message, it turns out, is from the same customer. This message came in at five-thirty in the morning, and he says to go ahead and order the whole case. Great. I write the winemaker, asking him to bring me case for the customer, and a case for me of mixed Can Franc and Traminette.

When the wine arrives, I call the customer and leave him a message. Then, at around six in the evening on Tuesday, I am told by a co-worker that the man in question is here to pick up "his bottle of wine."

I retrieve the case and have it brought to him. He looks at it and then at me and says, "I only wanted the one bottle."
"But you called me back. You left me a message at five-thirty in the morning, saying that you would take a whole case."
He stares dumbly at me.
"You don't have to take it. I'll put it on the shelf. But you did order it."
"I just don't... I'll take a couple bottles, but... How much is it, like ten bucks? (It's fifteen). I don't want a whole case." He removes a couple of bottles, and I take the rest of the case away wordlessly. He knows I am not happy. There is no reason to say anything. I walk past my manager, cursing the customer (stupid cocksucking asshole I knew he was going to do this). He asks so I explain.
"And the thing is, I know he's going to get up to checkout and leave those bottles of 2010. There is no way he is going to buy them, even after all this."
My manager sympathizes. We have a brief discussion about the shitty selfish things that customers do, etc. We both make jokes and then part ways. Around the next corner I run into Sven, who has two bottles of the 2010 in his hand. "Do these have a place on the shelf?" he asks, completely unaware.
"Goddamn stupid motherfucking cocksucking motherfucker!" I veritably shout. "Where did you find those?"
"They were stashed in a bin over there," he replies, gesturing toward an area which is now occupied by The Customer.
It turns out that Sven had approached the man with these bottles in his hand and asked if he could help him find anything, and the man had looked in horror at the bottles in Sven's hand, as if they were turds. Sven was confused.
Pffft. People.