Alright, it’s Monday morning. You just dragged yourself out of a bed that reeks of panicked night sweats and the taco bell you hammered on Saturday night.

You’re somehow still hungover from brunch yesterday and every football team you root for took massive L’s this weekend.

And now you have to perk up, pile some coffee on top of your worsening heartburn, and pretend to give a shit about [insert boring work thing here].

It sucks. Monday’s suck.

Which is why I think it’s important to start your week with a little gratitude and positivity. So here’s one thing that I love this week:

The Wine Taste

Let me be clear to distinguish this from a formal wine tasting at a vineyard. I’m talking about when you order a bottle of wine at a restaurant and they need someone to try a sip of it to make sure it’s good.

Everyone has been in this position at some point and it can be extremely daunting. Mainly because everyone is bullshitting their way through the entire process. You don’t know if that wine is good. Hell, you’re not positive it’s even wine.

But as a scumbag who has spent most of his life masquerading as a man of means and sophistication, I’ve mastered the art of doing the wine taste. Follow these simple steps and you’ll be looking like a pretentious prick in front of your Hinge date in no time:

Step 1: Ordering the Wine

This can make or break you before you’ve even started. You need to show the waiter right away that you know your stuff, especially when you don’t. The second you have the wine list in your hand, begin perusing. Better yet, show initiative. When the waiter mentions the wine list, raise your hand and say “I’ll be in charge of that,” and chuckle to yourself as if you’re not an enormous asshole.

From there, you’re going to want to pick a wine that fits the restaurant. If it’s an Italian joint, get an Italian red. If it’s a Greek place, try a Greek white or just drink really runny tzatziki out of a champagne flute. Bonus points if you ask everyone at the table what they’re thinking of getting to eat and then condescendingly say, “Oh better not get a red then. Doesn’t pair well with fish.”

Always a good idea with wine to try and pass off very common knowledge as your own unique insight.

Step 2: The Wine Arrives

The wine arrives at your table. Let out a soft “ahhh” to indicate you’re pleased that they brought the thing you asked for. When the waiter shows you the label to confirm the wine, you MUST lean in, even if it’s 6 inches from your face. If you own eyeglasses, this is the time to put them on and make a show of reviewing the label. You don’t remember what you ordered/blindly pointed at, but it needs to be a big production. Wine is all about the theater.

Step 3: The Cork is Pulled

The wine is now cork-less. We’re getting so close to that all important tasting. A nice touch here is to ask the waiter for the cork, give it a sniff for no particular reason, and pocket that shit. To really sell this, nudge the person next to you and say, “Another one for the collection.” There is no collection and your guest hates you, but it plays.

Step 4: Taste Time

Inevitably, the question will be asked: “Who would like to try it?” Your hand better shoot up faster than Steph Curry when he gets the ball anywhere past the logo. The wine will be poured into your glass. Now remember, this is a marathon not a sprint. So really take your time and savor the process.

Give that wine a nice, 10-second swirl. You should see a small typhoon forming in the center of your glass. Next, jam your nose as far as you can into that glass and inhale like you’re an anteater doing blow.

Finally, take your sip. Swish it around your mouth, smell it again, really draw the process out. Quietly verbalize any tasting notes that come forward. They don’t have to be remotely close to accurate or even what you actually taste, just as long as they sound good. Tell people that it reminds you of pink peppercorn jam. Now obviously you’ve never had pink peppercorn jam. I’m not even sure why they make that tbh. But here’s the thing, they (your guests) haven’t had PPJ either. So they’re going to assume that you’re more sophisticated, and therefore, better than them.

Step 5: The Verdict

Now that the tasting is complete take these last few moments to pause and reflect. Not on the wine, you have no idea if it was good. It’s fucking wine — it all tastes like wine. But reflect on your work day, your coming meal, the smothering isolation of existence, etc. Then after a few seconds, turn, look up at the waiter, and in a calm, measured voice say, “it’s good, thank you.”

Congratulations, you now know exactly as much about wine as your friend who speaks three sentences of French and eats a lot of grapes.