Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Margaritas

It was the worm. The worm made me do it. I finally decided it was time to drink the bottle of mescal I got from duty-free after my trip to Mexico several years ago. It has been my tequila-like-substance experience that the shit don’t get better with age…. And, maybe it was watching Fear Factor one too many times (one time is too many), but I was starting to dream about the worm in the bottom of the bottle.

My, um, constitution isn’t as strong as it was in years past so sitting down with a couple of limes, some salt and an “I heart Las Vegas” shot glass was not an option. So I found one of those “bucket ‘o margaritas” mixes in the pantry and started stirring. (It should be noted that the last time I did bucket ‘o margaritas my aunt passed out from heat exhaustion at the Livingston Rodeo and the kids ended up using the empty margarita bucket & a super-soaker to wage war on some friendly locals. I have pictures somewhere…)

Yes, I had to wipe the dust off the margarita glasses and, yes, I was again amazed at the vast array of alcoholic beverage glassware I own.

Honey even got into the festive spirit and decided to imbibed in neon beverages with me. After the first sip we had the conversation we usually have about tequila-like-substances. He said it tasted like an ash tray. I said that meant that, some time in the past, he had done a shot with a cigarette butt in it. I told the story about losing my tent in the Gila National Forest and being directed back to it by a friendly herd of local elk…. I’m not making this up. I couldn’t make up shit like this.

Alas, it is a testament to a kinder and gentler me that this evening did not end with native-style horseback super-soaker ambushes or gentle guidance from friendly bipeds. We quietly finished our drinks and ambled off to bed… but at least I didn’t dream about the worm.

1 comment:

Joseph said...

Aaaah Tequilla! That's my happy drink. All I do is laugh my ass off the whole time. Look at me cross eyed and I'll burst into laughter. Look at me seriously, I'll burst into laughter.

But man, in the morning...I just groan and moan...no laughing..it hurts.