Occasionally, GB and I like to play this social experiment. We go to a bar. Sit down. The bartender comes over for our order and he says, "Bud Light in a bottle and a Jack Daniels." Then we wait to see which drink the barkeep puts down in front of which person.
Yes, folks, I'm a woman. I drink Jack. Sometimes w/ a mixer. Sometimes w/ a chaser. In some extreme circumstances, straight out of the bottle with only a bit of a shiver at the finish.
This may seem hardcore. And, in truth, it's certainly not the best of vices. But, I have to say this, it wins me a LOT of friends on the road.
Of note: At dinner with ChirpBoy in SanFran, when the very cute bartender found out the Jack was my drink, she put my pour on the house. On the plane on the way home (eight hour flight!) when the flight attendant heard that I asked for a JD to help me sleep, she told her co-worker to "put it on my tab." Tonight, on the train, I made a joke about the 14 hour day with my boss. The female conducter leaned over and whispered, "what are you drinking?" Next trip I made to the cafe car, a nip was quietly deposited into my snack box.
The reality is, women appreciate in one another a sense of strength, a sense of identity, a sense of ownership. Maybe it's about time those of us who DON'T watch Sex In the City began reclaiming ourselves. I don't know. But whatever it is, I'm psyched about it. Because it's led me to talk to people I might never have had the nerve or incentive to approach.
A round of whatever you're drinking on me!
Monday, December 07, 2009
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