Friday, December 14, 2007

Happy Hour Evaluations

I didn’t set out to do it this week, but the cosmos all aligned and I managed to do three happy hours in the span of three days. This gave me the golden opportunity to compare the pros and cons of the different places I’ve been to. The first one was on Tuesday, and unexpected, but after Calvin Crustitron got verbally sodomized at work, Sarah suggested we go get some drinks. We went to one of my personal favorite bars nearby, Bennegins. Not only do I love the rowdy Irish atmosphere, but the bartender knows me. He gives me Kettel One in my cranberry cocktails for rail vodka price. This is a good thing. I’m not that big of a fan of cheap vodka, it’s like the ugly girl that gets taken out on a date when her hot roommate is uninterested. The problem with this bar, is that the bartender is somewhat creepy. I always know it’s time to leave when he starts talking about “biting my freckles.”

Wednesday, after a shitty long day of work, my friend that lives nearby invited me to go out to
Joe Sensors. It’s a decent bar, but fucking a, the way they have this gem nestled into the suburbs, it’s worse than trying to get to a rave; you go down all of these frontage roads, and ask a guy who will tell you… ridonkulous; I would think they would want the bar to be easily found. But I didn’t miss out on anything, they don’t have drink specials until ten. That’s honestly where Bennigans has them beat… they give 5-7 pm two for ones; it totally evens out things with the creepy bartender. The bartender at Joe Sensors was cool, and even pretended he wasn’t eavesdropping when we were talking about swinger parties (before the emails start, no I don’t go to them). When I ordered my Pirate Punch (great drink, FYI, with Bacardi Raz, Bacardi O, Bacardi Citron and some pineapply-punch) he made me re-order it using a pirate accent.

Last night I definitely wasn’t planning on going out, but I got a call from my friend’s wife, MILFgasm, asking me if I was missing something. My wallet had fallen out in his car, and because I’m 23, I get carded almost always. It would be a sad, sober weekend without my wallet. So I met him and his wife out at the Crowne Plaza, which has an awesome fire pit. But I was disappointed at the lack of prostitutes, because after all it WAS a hotel bar.
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The first round of drinks were free thanks to a phone call to the manager by MILFgasm. They have fanfuckingtastic chicken nachos, but her husband’s martini was lacking in flavor and her pomegranate martini wasn’t mixed well. My blueberry vodka fizz martinis were heavy on the vodka, but I would rather them be potent than too light on the liquor. After a few of those, and discussion on how the fire pit resembled a sacrifice alter to offer up a goat, I decided to get some pics bowing down to it. The people watching were mostly amused, but a bit surprised that some chick was worshiping at a fire pit in a hotel lobby.
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On that note, I will get to the next recipe in my 12 drinks of Giftmas series:

Mistletoe Apertif
  • In a tall shot glass, add 1/2 oz of Chambord
  • Then gently pour 1/2 oz of Midori over the back of a spoon so it flows on top of the Chambord without mixing
  • Repeat that process with 1/2 oz of orange schnapps

You can flame it by igniting the top with a match; blow the flame out after a few seconds, and make sure the rim of the glass isn't too hot before throwing it back.

29 comments:

Warped Mind of Ron said...

I learn so much from the web.. Let's see, Biting freckles, bad pick up line and Hotel bars = prostitutes. I think I'm ready for the weekend.

TED VELVET said...

fire good, big juggs better.

R.E.H. said...

Girl, you almost make me wanna take up drinking again (stronger stuff than beer that is). These drinks you make sound deee-licious!

Tequila Mockingbird said...

Ron: the interweb is a wonderful place. where else can you find the combination of disturbing and fantastic images and concepts?

Ted: hahaha. how cavemen-tastic of you.

REH: what would be so awful about that?

moooooog35 said...

Wow...three happy hours in one week.

I usually get one happy hour a week...which is after my kids go to bed on the Thursday night my wife is out drinking, and I get to play Guitar Hero.

Great.

I just realized that I'm really, really lame.

Bruce, a work in progress said...

THERE'S the sweater shot I was hoping for in the last post!!! THANK YOU!

Be careful worshiping at hotel bar fire pits when there are people around. The fundamentalists these days aren't too far from using we Pagans for kindling again.

Jay said...

Happy Hour might just be the greatest invention of all time. Right after central air conditioning that is.

I don't go to bars that don't have prostitutes. If there aren't any hookers then it's too high class for me. ;-)

Preposterous Ponderings said...

Those are some mighty fine boobies you have there!

Oh we were talking happy hours weren't we. So sorry!Got sidetracked.

A Girl, A Boy, and Me said...

Lol, you have put me in the holiday spirit.

Malach the Merciless said...

You should write articles about the local bar seen, and i will post them on Third Option Media, interested? Email me.

Tequila Mockingbird said...

moog: usually i only get to about one too, but it has nothing to do with guitar hero.

Bruce: you are welcome. but know that my tits look great in any form of clothing. or not in clothing at all.

Jay: the garth brooks song from back in the day comes to mind "i've got friends in low places, where the whiskey flows and the beer chases my blues away..."

Prepon: thanks. i get that a lot.

A Girl: glad to be of service!

Malach: i'm all about that. combines two of my main interests, drinking and writing.

Mike said...

The articles Malach mentioned could only be better if you wrote articles about local bars and boobs.

Lightning Bug's Butt said...

Thank you for the neighborhood bar reviews.

Bennegan's sounds charming.

Nice pics, too.

Tequila Mockingbird said...

Mike: i DO like to include boobs into almost everything. great suggestion.

Bennigans is charming. like a hobo that sings and/or plays a musical instrument.

C.Rag said...

biting freckles...I like biting & freckles. It seems like a win win situation.

Anonymous said...

what happened to your fish and could you please post the link again.

Tequila Mockingbird said...

C.rag: agreed. i would let you bite my freckles even if you weren't serving me drinks.

Anon: WTF? seriously, what fish? i am so fucking confused. link? have you been huffing paint thinner?

Anonymous said...

fish we got to feed by clicking on image

Tequila Mockingbird said...

Anon: dude, there were never any fish. i dont have widgets like that, and i never did. now that we've solved that mystery, what link do you want reposted?

Anonymous said...

i have mistaken you for someone else. my sincere apologies.

Tequila Mockingbird said...

Anon: mkay. for a sec i thought you were my ex lady friend. that was the only other person i knew in orlando.

sirdar said...

When I turned 18 there was really one one bar in town. There was one bar in every town. Yes, not the big city but towns around 1000 people. Closed it down too many nights. Oh..and then there was the Legion. Used to play hockey with a lot of the cops and let me tell you..those guys know how to drink!!

Phoebe Fay said...

Tag!

Hungry Mother said...

I remember the good old days when I could order a martini without being asked for the flavor. The essence of a martini is gin and nothing else is necessary.

here today, gone tomorrow said...

Wow!!! What a rack! What were you saying?

BBC said...

I drink mostly only light beer. And go to only two places. Reggie's and the Eagles club.

Colonel Colonel said...

Sounds like a great time was had by all, including those of us vicarious hangers-on, so I won't go into my Bernard DeVotoesque "A martini is gin and vermouth, and -only- gin and vermouth" thing. Besides, is Xymas. Nice pics!

oh- anon. is mixing you up with PrePonderings, she has a fish tank on her blog.

Further on up the road said...

Clearly my company travel have screwed up again and I'll get a no show bill for the Crowne Plaza, since every hotel bar I ever stay at never has any prostitutes in it - ever.

Often there is some random guy who is interested in my book or magazine I'm reading. Or some older woman (60 Plus) who I think is hitting on me but I'm never quite sure and I'm sure as hell keen not to really find out but keeps going on about my English accent. Even in hotels in England...

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