Why hello, Tequila. Where have you been all my life?
I might not be drinking for the next several weeks but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about!
I’ve avidly stated for quite some time that I will never try tequila. Ever. Ever. Ever.
First; there’s that little worm I once saw in the bottom of a bottle my mom brought back from Mexico. I vowed that I was never going to drink something that had a dead worm in it. I mean, why would anyone do that? Gross. What is this, how to drink fried worms? I think not.
Second; I’m a little more than slightly prone to stupidity when I’m sober and the stories of misbehavior I’ve heard about people on tequila borders on epic. I really didn’t need one of those stories and I prefer to keep my clothing on in public, thankyouverymuch. Plus, I don’t really drink to get drunk, just slightly tipsy and it doesn’t seem like anyone really stops at tipsy when tequila is involved.
No, tequila and I were simply never meant to be.
Oh how things change. Suddenly I met that certain someone who knows more drinks than most bartenders and who often has to explain to the bartender how to make the drink he’s ordering for me.
He had me at Tokyo Tea…
The day after my birthday, friends and family threw me a surprise party. After asking everyone which drinks they had been buying for me, he started ordering drinks for me, keeping one on the table the second he saw I was half way through with the previous one. Apparently this was both so that I didn’t order my own drink (because I shouldn’t be paying for anything on my birthday) and so that someone else didn’t buy me a drink that wouldn’t mix well with everything and give me a hangover.
As I neared the end of the mysterious green drink I was thoroughly enjoying, he informed me, “The next drink I get, you have to chug.” I was game. But that comment was followed by “I know you don’t like it, but is there any kind of beer you can stomach?”
So, shortly after that a pretty yellow, orange, and pink drink arrived at our table.
“Is this the one I’m supposed to chug?” I asked.
“NO! Definitely do not chug that one,” he responded, quite emphatically.
One drink and I think I was in love with the oh so pretty drink.
“What is it?” My mom asked me, “Can I try it?”
With one sip she furrowed her brow and asked, “Is that tequila?”
“No, of course not, he knows I’ve never had tequila.”
I had long ago decided that if I were to try tequila it had to be with him. He knew I had never had tequila, as did everyone else, but certainly he would tell me if I were trying it. Right?
So, I walked up to him and asked, “Does this have tequila in it? My mom says it tastes like tequila.”
“Oh, okay, what is it?” I asked, curious both because of the prettiness and the deliciousness.
“Is it yummy?” …a very typical reply.
“Then that’s what it is.”
I glared, took a sip, and then skipped away.
We’ve had this conversation before.
Walking back to my mom I confidently informed her that there was no tequila present in the pretty drink before returning to the rest of my friends to enjoy the pretty little concoction.
The next morning I woke up hangover free.
A week later we were out at one of our favorite bars when that certain someone told me I should get a Gator Blast.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It was the green one I bought you on your birthday… right before the Tequila Sunrise,” he replied with a smirk.
“I thought you said there wasn’t any tequila in that,” I said with a glare and a smile.
“And you believed me?”
“I usually do…”
“Well, there’s your first problem.”
And that is how I became acquainted with tequila.