Tik Tik Tik Tequila
I drank a lot of cactus poison this weekend, ya’ll. A lot. But you wanna know what? Youwannaknowwhat?
If you haven’t heard of this wonderful elixir, it’s the essence of balance. You drink just enough and you feel that you own the world. And you do. Too much? Ooph. Let’s not go there.
I have been testing tequila lightly in the last month or so, in the last few years this sailor maid turned boring in her drinking adventures- everything I put in me, my body vehemently rejected. Whiskey, gone. Guinness, gone. Rum, gone. Vodka can go wonky, too, though not all the time. But Tequila?
Once I felt comfortable enough to indulge fully, once one drink didn’t send my head into an immediate construction zone, I pricked my finger on the magical drink of the cacti. It hurt so good.
This weekend my Tequila Time zone opened up whilst trying a new beverage: Skinny Girl Cocktails.
Holy shittails. I drank a whole bottle.
As a friend pointed out, ‘skinny’ is used loosely when you drink the whole damn bottle. But I felt gooood! I swear by this drink, not that I have to but I’ll endorse the shit of this drink.
Last night was a round two with margaritas thanks to my friend who manages the Yard at Soho and he drowned me in tequila. I was so…in a good place…that it took me a minute to realize I’d walked into the mens restroom at one point. But to my credit, the person at the sink (a man) had lovely long hair and skinny jeans. What was I suppose to think?
So, the wrap up is this: Drink tequila. Or give it to me. I need more practice for vacation this week 🙂