For the first twenty-five years of my life, I was stone-cold sober.
Went through all my college and university days and didn’t touch a drop. Didn’t like the taste; didn’t see the point. So I spent my money on chocolate and computer parts instead.
But I hit a certain age, and decided that the very thing I needed in my life to make me seem more cultured and eccentric was some sort of expensive addiction. I briefly considered – and then dismissed:
- cigars – they were too smelly
- gambling – honestly didn’t see the attraction
- poker – I kept annoying the other players by asking why that man is stabbing himself in the head
- expensive chocolate – turns out I’m perfectly happy with the cheap stuff
- harlots – I’m married to one; I honestly don’t have the energy for any more
- beer – apparently when I belch I become even less appealing
… before eventually discovering gin and rum.
And what discoveries they were! People who drink gin aren’t alcoholics – they’re characters. Meanwhile, rum is first and foremost the tipple of pirates – and everyone loves Johnny Depp!
They come in both cheap and expensive forms – so you can keep some for weekdays, and some for sunday-best. I hope that – if nothing else – this reasoning demonstrates that I shall be a prudent and pragmatic drunk.
It seems I am particularly partial to a spiced dark rum called Jefferson’s which is available from here … and it makes no difference to postage whether you order two bottles or twelve! Buying them in crates of twelve is just good economic sense; certainly not indicative of any kind of problem.
Anyway, my wife and I enjoy a shot of it in a glass of coke. It’s just enough to dull the pain of our hellish existence, and makes our twilight years just that little bit more bearable whilst we await senility and the sweet release of death.
It is also possible that drinking it encourages me to write shit in blogs.
But to the point I’m failing to reach: when pouring a glass, we just sort of … splash … a bit in, and then fill the rest of the glass with coke. It’s not like we’re drinking it neat or anything. But it occurred to us the other day that we’ve no idea what an official “shot” quantity actually looks like. I mean: we know it’s 25ml … but not what that looks like in the glass. I mean: in terms of height.
So whilst in some sort of gift shop last week, we came across a shot glass that my wife liked, and so we bought it. To make us more scientific with our measures.
And tonight we used this shot glass to scientifically pour ourselves a single shot of rum, and compare it against our usual ‘splash’.
It turns out that all this time when we’ve wanted just a ‘little one’ whilst watching TV … we’ve been pouring triples. Oops.
But what stings the most is that now we’re pouring singles, we can’t taste a damn thing.