Greetings fellow party people, and welcome back to another easy breezy installment of this glorious, ethanol-fueled column, That One Drink. Last week we discussed our absolute favorite beverages of which we will accept no criticism, and it was pretty enjoyable. The winner, brought to us by Edgar Allan Bro, was a beverage I enjoy quite a bit, and a good reminder that the classics are classics for a reason.
Gin and tonics. My mom says they're "old lady drinks" and yet she wouldn't let me order them at my grandmas birthday party. Whatever, Mom.
First of all, Edgar Allan Bro's mom: I can think of no better cocktail to order at a grandmother's birthday, especially by your logic that they are "old lady drinks." Second of all, what is wrong with emulating old ladies? Old ladies say whatever they want because they're too old to deal with your shit, and that is an attitude I am trying to emulate.
So let's share a G&T, and toast to the old ladies, and the old at heart! I never measure the gin or the tonic, but I know there's usually more G than T in there. Obviously a squeeze of lime is involved.
Trophy time! I'm awarding Edgar Allan Bro with "You're My Favorite Waste of Time" by Marshall Crenshaw, because gin really is my favorite way to waste time.
Moving right along. Here at That One Drink (T1D, if you are into abbreving), we usually focus on those beverages that give us great joy, but it can be just as fun to talk of those drinks that betrayed and mangled us a bit. You know, those drinks you can't even look at without feeling a little queasy.
I only have one. It's not that only one drink has ever made me sick, but there is only one beverage in this world that has been forever banished from my lips, and it's name is Captain Morgan and Diet Coke.
The year was 2005, I had gone to a Rolling Stones concert with my family and was PUMPED about LIFE. I had not eaten in six hours. All of my friends were at a house party in Glendale, near the Trader Joe's. I parked in the TJ's parking lot because I was "just popping in."
I was 19, and thus beholden to whatever alcohol was provided by my older dirt bag friends, and for some reason they only drank Corona, Smirnoff Ice, and Captain fucking Morgan. I poured a tumbler of half Captain and half Diet Coke. Then I did that again. Then I did three shots. I was a very stupid 19-year-old.
As I was pouring another shot, a dude who had made out with me but wouldn't date me started to express that "maybe that wasn't a good idea." I was mad at him for making out with me but not dating me, and thus determined to do the opposite of anything he suggested. "I'll show him," I thought. And then I did, because he ended up holding my hair while I puked. (We are still good friends to this day.)
I ended up crashing in the spare bedroom in this apartment in Glendale across from the Trader Joe's. My friends were very nice and moved my car so it wouldn't get towed, but I didn't know that and couldn't find my car for a bit. It all worked out though.
I have not had a hangover that bad since that incident. It lasted two days, and I have never wished for death so strongly. I remember trying to eat a biscuit and not being able to and crying because I loved biscuits so much and couldn't enjoy them. Though there was honestly no one to blame but myself, I will forever hold a grudge against Captain Morgan spiced rum, though not Diet Coke, because Diet Coke is a perfect angel of a beverage and can do no wrong.
And that is the one drink I can't even look at. What's yours?