In the immortal (though contextually unrelated) words of Nikki Minaj: “Somebody please tell him who the f I is …”

“You look lost,” this Vintages shopper said to me this afternoon out of nowhere as I gazed at the Italian section trying to decide whether to spring for something lavish. No, I said, just looking for the best textbook testable wine for my tasting group.

“Have you ever tasted a Vacqueyras?” I smiled tersely and said yes. “How about a Gigondas then? It’s from the same area.”

I deal with a lot of people in my line of work, and normally just brush off condescension or try to tactfully establish that I have a basic grounding in the area. I think I’ve let it slide in the past because this information is by no means common knowledge for the vast majority of the world. I wouldn’t be insulted if someone assumed I didn’t know the first thing about petroleum engineering or Magic: The Gathering (I don’t), so why should the equally esoteric field of wine be any different?

I walked away after a few more minutes of similar conversation that ended in him declaring a bottle I was holding was merely “OK.” Really? I said. I’d had it previously, always liked the producer, and for the price tag (extremely modest — I work in wine and was paying myself), I found the wine quite delicious. “No,” he said sternly. “It’s OK.”

And that was when something snapped. I love talking wine with people at all levels of knowledge and would’ve been thrilled to geek out but that’s not possible when the conversation starts from the premise that I’m clueless. Similar nonsense happens all the time, but for some reason this once I couldn’t quell my mounting anger and frustration. I seethed all the way from St. Catharines to said tasting group in Toronto, and it takes a lot to make anyone disregard QEW traffic at rush hour. A rant upon arrival confirmed why I was so irate: The guys were incredulous anyone would be so rude, the women had similar recent stories.

The difference is that I do definitely know the first thing about the area in which I work, and likely the second, and sometimes even the third and the fourth. Starting a conversation on the assumption otherwise is insulting and happens far too often. Too frequently to women. Too frequently by men.

The only circumstance when asking someone if he or she has “ever” tasted a well-known appellation is acceptable is when he or she has stated or inferred: “I’m lost, can you help me find a wine that […]?”

So here’s the answer that upon reflection I wanted to give but probably never will:

“Yes, I am familiar with the basic information you reference because doing so was and is necessary to gain the subject matter knowledge and professional certifications I have worked hard at to be successful in what is now more than 10 years in this industry. I am deeply imperfect in my knowledge and have much to learn, and am grateful that I regularly get the chance to talk to and learn from the many people next to whom I genuinely am clueless.

“But that’s probably not you, asshole.”