absinthe

So, I was at this bar on Friday after the Irish Fest. (Think cheapish beer and trying to avoid absorbing any Irish music.) And they had this funny little contraption that had two spigots coming out on either side and one of our friends (the alcoholic one) goes, "Hey, they have absinthe!"

Now, I've never had absinthe, but it's a completely convoluted process. First you have to buy some sugar cubes. Don't try to press together a packet or anything, get a box that has them pre-assembled. This is key. Then you take the sugar and put it on a spoon/spatula dealie. Pour the absinthe over all that and into the glass and then light it on fire! Then you put the sugar cube in the glass and mix vigorously. Finally, use your fancy two-spigoted contraption to pour water in the absinthe/sugar cocktail. (Apparently, the water process is supposed to take days, but here it was seconds.)

After like half an hour, we got our drinks and the bartender says, "Whatever you do, don't shoot it." Now, I have a rule. I shoot mystery drinks. If I don't know what something tastes like (but I know it's not going to be pretty), I shoot it. Bang! Bang! That's my motto. No smelling, no contemplating. You're only making it worse. Just down the hatch. "We can't shoot it?" "Unless you don't want to remember anything that happens."

My understanding was that I was going to be have some wicked hallucinations, so, maybe they'd be scary and I wouldn't want to remember what was about to happen. Besides, I'd been using beer to drown out the brutal pennywhistle ear rape I was subjected to for the past 4 hours; I was already playing dice with the night's memories. To top it off, I have my "Shooter" McGavin rule. But, I decided to be cautious and took a sip. Holy worse than Jager. Yes, some sort of liquefied licorice, but worse. No way I was pinky sipping that swill. So I shot the rest.

OH MY GOD IT'S TONY DANZA!