Of course I don’t want to talk smack about any alcohol serving establishment, its selection of drinks or its clientele, but….sometimes circumstances are way too funny to resist and my inner snarky-girl comes out roaring….
Two of us were invited to a local blue-collar yacht club for some early evening tippling with acquaintances and good friends. I’d been there on several occasions and always had a blast. It was time for girls’ night out and the club is great place to relax away from the big city and annoying crowds. A couple of the ladies had arrived earlier and were enjoying some laughs and they welcomed us with opened arms. We sat out on the second floor deck overlooking the beautiful ocean. The scene couldn’t have been more idyllic, the breeze was blowing just enough to tame the hot afternoon sun, and we had the deck all to ourselves. It was late Thursday afternoon and a couple, two, three were still on route from work. When they arrived we would order some awesomesauce chicken wings, fries and mozzarella sticks to hold us until having dinner inside when the sun set.
Here is where it gets tricky. After we sat down, three of the group ordered different beers, each of which had the word LITE in the name, all maintain-stays of the bar. Not my cup of tea. The friend I came with ordered a red wine with a small bottle of orange juice to make it a sangria. Really? An individual size bottle of a merlot was produced to go with the OJ. Not my cup of tea. My turn. What’s a girl to do? It’s almost Friday and I am out for the night. I went to the bar, which had all the liquor bottles on a lower rack along the lower inside of the “U” shaped bar itself. The bartender stepped out of my way while I tried to find something to tickle my fancy. OK, I am a single malt girl primarily, but on a hot afternoon a bourbon or rye cocktail can be quite satisfying. What I found…nothin’. Not any local craft whiskies, nothing from Scotland, and one ubiquitous spirit from Tennessee. Not my cup of tea. I took off my shades put on the bifocals and tried again. Alas, a small ray of hope emerged. Shocking! A bottle of Kilbeggan was tucked between a white-bottled rum, and some kind of apple something or other. Time to go all out Irish!
Kilbeggan, a blend, is on the lighter side for my usual “bring on the Islay peat” palate. At 40% it doesn’t show a whopping alcohol kick, either. But that’s OK. On a hot afternoon, light and refreshing was more the order of the day. The Kilbeggan website offers a few cocktail ideas for drinking its whiskey, and I am one who is always trying to create a cocktail with what’s on hand, so I scoured the bar bottles once again and asked the bartender to pull out the bottle of Triple Sec. She filled a rocks glass with ice, added a double shot of the Kilbeggan and a ½ shot of the Triple Sec. Walla! An afternoon delight ready to go. And, yes, I did go back for seconds, and…
As the sun set the teenage years drinking and smoking stories started to make the rounds, the best one, and I leave you with this…one of the ladies (who had moved on to a Cosmo) told how her Mom, in her late eighties and early nineties, started keeping a jug size bottle of Seagram’s VO under the bed. She would pour a highball glass full, using only two ice cubes and a splash of water and call it a day. Most of us thought it hysterical, daughter not so much. Way to go Mom!
I raise a glass to a Girls’ Night Out and Kilbeggan, which saved my day.