It is March 2012 and Marcel and I am in a supermarket in Warsaw looking at rows of wine bottles, searching for South African brands. He drifts off, directs my attention to the spirits aisle.It's August 2012 and I write a message of distress to a blonde that I’ve met through work. She’s normally very responsive and always invites herself for coffee, but now no reply. So I'll have to handle this on my own. No, there’s help in Warsaw! I tell Marcel of my flu.
“Do you drink vodka?”
“Well, not really. Too much wine back home.”
“Look at this, typical Polish. Bison.”
“It has a grass inside! Lovely!”
“I’ll get you one to take home.”
“So what are you taking?”
“None of the pills I've taken work.”
“And what are you drinking?”
“I’ve just got wine. Oh! There’s that vodka you gave me!”
“Well, open the damn bottle and drink it!”
“Really? Ok… Sure. Will do!”
Dressed in long pajamas, a tracksuit, long socks, and piled under ½ dozen blankets, I’m still shivering with cold. Drifting off to sleep I dream. My uncle Brian smiles at me, waving his arm as if beckoning me to join him. Ah, it’s his birthday today! But why are the lights so incredibly bright? Oh, he’s not with us anymore…
It's October 2014 and a girl from Poland calls me. Edyta tells me that she sells glasses. Very nice I say, but we sell wine.
“We'll put your logo on. I’ll send you our presentation.”Very impressive, I think as I glance at it. But wait, I recognize this! Bison Grass Vodka!
And first thing she unpacks from her bag is a shot glass of Żubrówka, showing me the whole design process on her tablet. Tasting wine in a couple of branded wine glasses, I get to keep the ŻU glass and she leaves with a can of winesave for her boyfriend’s birthday.