The Rough Rider

It’s one of those drinks. You know, those drinks. The kind that say on the menu “Served only to parties of two or more” and comes in a fish bowl (okay, it probably never housed any fish and didhave a stem, but it was a behemoth of a thing).

It’s a rum punch but you’d really have to convince me that it was much more than a bag of sugar with some fruit on top served with six straws.

I hate being any sort of booze elitist, because who really likes guys like that? I had held my tongue when a bottle of Martini & Rossi Asti Spumante was referred to as champagne.

A bachelorette party limo where talk of how drunk we’ll get tonight is hardly the platform to educate some lovely ladies on the difference between our bottle of bubbly and methode champenoise.

Try as I might, small sip after small sip of The Rough Rider started making me queasy. Sugary drinks are hardly my thing these days and as much as I could force my palate to approve the beverage, my stomach went into full out protest.

I just heard it telling me that drinking this much sugar is going to trigger an upchuck way before it triggers any alcohol buzz. It wasn’t worth the trouble of keeping appearances and joining in on the novelty drink fun.

As I paid attention to my tastes and body during a conversation about how it would cost $500 if anyone puked in the limo so we should get drunk, but not too drunk, a $6.00 glass of CK Mondavi Pinot Grigio seemed all the more appealing.

Maybe it’s not the best wine I’ve ever let touch my tongue but in that moment, the respite from sugar coma was incredible. There was acid, not accompanied by too much sugar, and I could relax and enjoy the moment again.

Drunk but not puking? I can do this. As I downed my wine, all was settling in.

It’s hard to get comfortable in certain situations sometimes, as I was finding that night at my good friend’s bachelorette party.

You may not have noticed, but I’m not the girly-est of girls around. But somehow, getting the right drink eased me into the night and opened me up to allow myself to have a good time.

A shot and a gin and tonic later (continuing my theme of lower sugar drinks), we hit the dance floor and let loose.

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