In today’s edition of “Wait. Am I Being Trolled? This Can’t Be Real,” a Mexican restaurant in Brooklyn has angered people (mostly ladies who like bourbon and men who like white wine) by dividing their drinks into “FOR LADIES (Light Alcohol),” “FOR EVERYONE (Alcohol), and “FOR MEN (Extra Alcohol).”
Though I appreciate the sentiment of alcohol being FOR EVERYONE, do we really need to have another “Different people, regardless of gender, like different things and can’t we all just drink what we like? BLAH BLAH BLAH,” conversation?
I mean, apparently we do.
It’s no secret that I am a fan of ethanol in its many forms. I will drink most beverages and I like the taste of alcohol. I like a good bourbon on a single, giant rock but when the mood strikes, you can find me drinking fruitier fare, like the Strawberry Clover Club I enjoyed just last night. If I have a lot to do the next day, I may opt for a lower alcohol beer or wine instead of a dirty martini, but the choice is never dictated by the fact that I am a lady.
This menu would have been just fine if it had dropped the “LADIES, AMIRIGHT?” aspect and organized their libations by alcoholic content. I appreciate that they charge less for weaker drinks, but I really dislike being regulated to certain realms of menudom.
If I was confronted with this type of thing in the wild, three things would probably happen:
1. A “what is this garbage?” comment to the bartender.
2. A mind game –- played only by me -– wherein I feel compelled to “show them who they’re dealing with” by ordering from the “Menz” section, only to realize that most of those drinks sound kind of gross; so much Kahlua and Red Bull.
3. Shun this oppressive menu and order a Hendrick’s and soda.
And, I can’t believe I’m having to say this again, sometimes women like strong drinks and sometimes men like white wine spritzers; can pleasefor the love of gin quit making alcohol (a source of comfort and solace in this otherwise hostile world) a matter of gender?
Not that this has a huge effect on my life or decisions; I’m going to continue to order whatever I want whenever I want it, and I don’t feel oppressed by a silly menu located in small restaurant over 1,000 miles away, but the whole thing is too absurd not to comment on. I actually can’t think of a single benefit for dividing the menu this way. It seems like a surefire way to offend men who like Bailey’s, women who like liquor (me, Kate Conway, Doc Holligay, etc.), and those special snowflakes who really want a Modelo Lemonade, but hate to be regulated to the category of “EVERYONE.”
My point is, dividing a menu by gender is perhaps one of the most ridiculous and arbitrary ways to divide up a menu and it’s not even that creative. To right this wrong, I have come up with my own completely arbitrary, but very creative, ways of dividing up a drink menu.
Claire's Completely Arbitrary Systems of Alcohol Consumption:
I’m not suggesting the tallest people get the most alcohol; I’m suggesting the shortest people get the most alcohol. If physics has taught me anything (it’s not a lot; I was terrible at physics), it’s that a lower center of mass equals a more stable object (or person). Therefore shorter people are harder to knock down and can drink more before becoming horizontal.
By Color Season
Remember when everyone was wearing clothing and makeup according to the “season” of their face or whatever?
One afternoon in the ’80s, my mother hosted a makeup party and it was determined that I was both a summer AND a fall. I felt like I had won something, but I wasn’t sure what. I remember my mom saying something like, “That’s why that red turtleneck looks so good on you, sweetie.”
ANYWAY. A bar menu organized by color season would be divided up thusly:
- Winters: Vodka-based drinks, anything with blue raspberry in the name, frozen concoctions (obvi).
- Springs: St-Germain only.
- Summers: Any kind of “colada,” shandies, tequila-soaked watermelon.
- Falls: Ciders, all brown liquors, anything mulled.
In this system, your life path number dictates the number of ounces of alcohol you may have per hour.
First, everyone must calculate their “life path number.” To do this, simply add up all the digits in your birthday until you get a single digit. Here, I’ll go first. I was born August 5th, 1986 (08/05/1986) so:
Mine is 1, so I may only have one ounce of alcohol per hour. This system sucks.
There, I fixed it. Feel free, Los Pollitos III, to divide your drink menu using any one of my innovative and completely arbitrary systems. Whichever you choose will make just as much, if not more sense, than dividing it by gender.