Recently, and maybe as a joke, I was chosen to make a selection from the wine list at a french restaurant. My mouth said to my friends, "I'd love to," and I started flipping through the pages. At the same time, my chest and my throat said to me, "There's nothing we can do for you. You're going into a swivet." Then my brain said, "Fine. But let's keep this in-house." 

I was fretful, lost and alone, until I laid eyes on a wine with a flavor profile that included "nervous" as one of its characteristics. "Oh, poor thing," I thought, and I closed the menu.

The wine came and I tasted it. Giving the bottle a supportive wink, I said to the waiter, "Oh yes -- this wine is doing a great job!" Then I explained to my friends that the wine was known to be a little nervous. "Also, it may be self conscious because of the 'petit' thing," I whispered. "Well, there's no need for that," my husband said. "This wine is doing everything right. Let's drink this bottle down quickly, and then order another one, just to show our encouragement."