Saturday, August 14, 2010

Sort of like eating the fruit in your sangria. Yummy, but ill-advised.

This morning brings you a cautionary tale, of mysterious and magical looking green potions in glass bottles, and how, exactly, Alice must have felt when she fell down the rabbit hole and looked through the looking glass and ate the "eat me" and drank the "drink me".

Today one of my friends was bemoaning the after-effects of an evening whiled away enjoying the refreshing summertime goodness of sangria. Red red wine......and FRUIT. Oh the yummy booze-soaked fruits. It all seems so harmless and even - dare I say it - healthy, to partake in this warm-weather classic. Right up until you find yourself bent double puking up purple-stained apples. And this morning, oh this morning I felt his pain. From an entirely different source, however. And this is where the caution comes in.

Over the years, I have learned how much I love sangria, and how far I should go to avoid it. I can take a few sips, sure.......but I cannot - let me say this again for emphasis - CANNOT eat the fruit. I know this, and I usually use my common sense, and just grab a beer instead. Throw a slice of lime in there and I have all the fruit I need. But there is always something new, isn't there? The latest and greatest concoction being peddled by the liquor distributer at the bar - from fruit-flavored vodkas to malt liquor that tastes like iced tea to caffeinated beer. And I avoid those too. I might try it once or twice, end up with a upset tummy or a headache, and then go back to old reliable. Or, the other old reliable. What can I say....I cannot choose between them. On the occasion when I have a cocktail, chances are good that Mr Jameson and Mr Daniels will play tug-of-war with my heart.

However. For a year now I have been admiring this curious glass tureen of emerald colored syrup in a small lounge by the beach. It's straight out of Alice in Wonderland, with it's handblown glass and antique dispenser. Absinthe, it says on the menu. Sounds dangerous. And romantic. And literary. Like I should carry a small glass bottle of it around in my pocket, sealed with a cork, a label tied with a ribbon around it's neck. Like I could have a few sips and end up writing heartwrenching poetry with a quill pen, working up to the Great Novel, then dying alone in a dark bar with heavy velvet drapes and dark wood paneling. I stayed away, because it just looked..........Mysterious. Threatening. Like something an evil step-mother would offer me in a crystal tumbler. And while I have chosen to forgo the glowing jewel-colored liquid on the bar, recently I have succumbed to the call of another magical green liquor in a pretty glass bottle. But we keep this one in the freezer, next to a few grotty bottles of Jagermeister. This? This is a party drink ! With a cute, non-threatening name! You mix it with Red Bull ! And have a party ! Yahoooooo! Except, well, yeah. It's a party all right.

It's a liquor made out of the coca leaf. You know, the same plant where - I guess - cocaine comes from. I wouldn't know, because I know absolutely nothing about cocaine. Or any other narcotic, for that matter. They just never interested me. But in the past two weeks, I have learned quite a little bit about this liquor. Or rather, I have learned a lot about the affect that this liquor has on me.

Long story short, I was ready to hump a damn barstool by midnight.

I was sending my husband desperate texts from behind the bar that were sadly akin to "I love you man!"

Which leads me to believe that there are other things in this world that might have the same effect. Ergo, without even trying them, I can save myself the money and the time and just know in my heart why and how people can find themselves in the depths of drug addiction - a place I have never been and have no intention of heading. Yes, it turns out that if my reaction to this liquor is any indication, my instinctual avoidance of any and all recreational narcotics was a very wise decision.

I could make a D.A.R.E. commercial right now, based on last night's reaction to that one silly cocktail. Drugs are bad. M'kay? And also, they make you all tingly. Which starts out like a buzz and ends up like a personal problem that requires a trip to the drug store for some kind of cream. Not romantic at all.

How about a nice seltzer water with lime?

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