"serves us right for ordering a blasphemous drink" I do like my alcohol, although I am not really into binge drinking. I actually like the taste of many different drinks. The story I am about to tell happened recently to me and my sister.
It happened on the day after Christmas which I believe is called boxing day. It was cold outside and we all of a sudden started craving cocktails. Down the road where we live there are lots of restaurants and quite a few pubs. We knew these places would not have cocktails but we still decided to go out in pursuit of satisfaction. We were not ready to leave the neighbourhood and travel to where we are sure of the best cocktails. So we walked down the road to about a 1 mile distance on one side and back on the other side. We entered all the restaurants asking if they served cocktails along with their food and they all said no. We asked in all the pubs and they all said no as well. Although in one of the pubs there was an interesting bartender with a Scottish accent who told us " sorry loves I can make em but we don't serve em so I cant make em". Because he was so nice we considered staying in that pub and ordering drinks from their menu. But then we decided not to as we might as well have gone back home where we had bottles of red wine and a bottle of Jack Daniels.
Instead of giving up and going back to our warm abode we continued on our pursuit. We found a turning on the main road that seemed to have a bit of life. We turned there and after a few steps found a very small pub. We went in and the owner of the pub was the one behind the bar a very jolly man who could be in his sixties. As we went in everyone in there turned to look at us, apart from the age gap of us and the people in the pub, there was also the fact that we were two black girls in an all white setting. We asked the Jolly pub owner if he served any cocktails, he said he did not know how to make them. So unlike the Scottish bar tender if he knew how to make them he would have because he was the owner of the pub. And then one of the guys in the pub spoke out that he knew the recipe of "sex on the beach" so he came up to explain to the pub owner. The pub owner listened attentively then said he could not do it because he did not have a shaker. Then the pup owner looked at us and said "Oh but off-course I make a decent Bloody Mary". This is where my story begins.
On the spot it did not occur to us the ingredients of a Bloody Mary as we had never had it before. It was either the fact that the man was so jolly and nice, the fact that everyone in the pub was friendly, or the fact that our alternative would be to go home, whatever it was we agreed and ordered a glass each. It was until he started mixing the drinks that we realised that it was going to be a difficult experience, but by now it was too late to pull back. His ingredients were as follows:
- 2 shots of vodka/glass
- 1 mini bottle of tomato juice/glass
- A bit of tobasco sauce/glass
My facial expression could have probably told anyone what was going through my mind. I have never been a fan of tomato juice and I could not imagine how it was going to taste with tobasco sauce. But trust the jolly man, while mixing was telling us stories of his pub, his son that is also a bartender, how cheap his pub is compared to most west end pubs and so on. He was so nice and excited about the drinks he was mixing that we felt no matter how bad it tasted we owed it to him to drink it. He gave us our drinks and was like tell me what you think? I took a gulp of what I would in future call my worst drink ever. However I told him that it was really nice as I felt it would crush him if I said otherwise. My sister did same and then we got out our blackberries and started chatting with each other.
me: omg this is horrible
sister: I can't drink any more lets go
me: lets try a bit, what a waste of money
sister: why on earth did he put tobasco sauce
me: it is like drinking cold stew
sister: .....
me: we could have stayed home we have drinks
sister: ....
me: how do we leave without offending him
sister: I just can't drink any more
While this chat was going on this man was still talking to us and asking us about our life's. Meanwhile the only thing on our minds was how to get the hell out of there. I kept on forcing myself on gulps. Then luckily his cellphone rang (saved by the bell) ,he picked up and started engaging in a conversation. Almost immediately we smiled at him stood up and made our exist very quickly. We left behind half empty glasses or half full glasses which ever way you prefer. Once we got outside and started heading home, we were both giving renditions of how bad the drink was. Why on earth should a drink have tobasco sauce!!! Why didn't we order a regular like vodka and coke or gin and tonic!!! who sent us there!!! and in the midst of this my sister bursts out "serves us right for ordering a blasphemous drink" That had to be the funniest statement I had heard in a long time. But come to think of it why is the drink called Bloody Mary, is there an origin behind it?! The drink should be called Vodka, spice and Tomato or something more appropriate. Mary makes me think of the earthly mother of Jesus and I am wondering what did she ever do to drink inventors.
Never again will I have this drink, however I would not erase that experience if I had the chance. It ended up being a pretty amazing boxing day after all.
