  | ||||||||
|
Girl Drink Drunk Most of my drinking career has been an homage to what Claire calls the "Girl drink drunk." Tutti-frutti beverages that typically come in a stemmed glass resplendent with any matter of flora and fauna. I want to grow up, I want to drink some terribly fancy single malt ambrosia like the rest of you. But, my junior, retarded palette just doesn't want to play along. I'm lost in a sea of sweetness. I tried a Martini once. I fell over. I've tried whiskey on a number of occasions but most of the resulting tales can't be repeated here - though I discovered at Spy one night that a Blow Popped dipped in whiskey is tolerable. It all started with the Singapore Sling. My selecting this beverage should have screamed underage drinker to the cocktail waitress. That was Ottawa and I guess you were allowed some sort of reward for scaling the six foot snow banks that littered the landscape. Rye and ginger followed. The favourite of Mrs. T across the street. Shortly after my mother passed away, she teetered across the street, drink in hand. She stared nonplussed at the large metal sculpture of a Great Blue Heron that had stood in our front window for years. "I thought that was the vacuum cleaner." I reconsidered Rye and ginger on the spot though it did follow through a number of the University years. I was a sucker for the silk tassel that decorated the self-named bottle. Margaritas are very good. They have multiple personalities with rocks 'n salt, frozen and the fruity flavours. You have to gauge the tenor of the bar. Will they tolerate the frozen fruity kind without silently sneering? El Teddy's makes the best Margaritas in New York. They aren't the frozen kind but they come with the fancy shaker and appliances are always good. I consider the Cosmopolitan (or Cosmo) to be a halfway point between a Girl drink drunk and something serious. It has enough liquor to be set on fire, yet still has a lovely pink colour which enables me to cling to my girlie ways. But I fell off or perhaps onto the wagon last night. The girl at the next table had something pretty and green. It had a cherry and I fell in love. "What's that?" "A Midori Sour, it's supposed to be both sweet and sour." She said the magic word. "Sweet." May 15, 2000
|
|
|
|
© 2000 - 2001 
|
||||
