Geographic Location

A man goes to the Lucas Carlton in Paris with his girlfriend and
orders the 1928 Mouton. The waiter returns with a decanter full of
wine, pours a small amount in the glass for tasting.

The customer picks up the glass, smells the wine, and puts it down
on the table with a thud. "This is not the 1928 Mouton."

The waiter assures him it is, and soon there is another twenty
people surrounding the table including the chef and the manager of
the hotel trying to convince the man that the wine is the 1928
Mouton. Finally someone asks him how he knows, it is not the 1928
Mouton.

"My name is Phillipe de Rothschild, and I made the wine."
Consternation.

Finally the original waiter steps forward and admits that he poured
the Clerc Milon 1928. "I could not bear to part with our last bottle
of 1928 Mouton. You own Clerc Milon, it is in the same village as
Mouton, you pick the grapes at the same time, the same cepage, you
crush in the same way, you put them into similar barrels. You bottle
at the same time, you even use eggs from the same chickens to fine
them. The wines are the same, except for a small matter of geographic
location."

Rothschild beckons the waiter forward, and whispers to him, "When
you return home tonight, ask your girlfriend to remove her underwear.
Put one finger in one opening, another in the other, and smell the
difference that a small matter of geographic location will give."