Sweet JD, TW (Part I)
When I last left you, I spoke of my limited exposure to Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey. See enclosed link: http://taylorsias.blogspot.com/2004/09/jack-and-me-updated-655-et.html
Since that day, I fell back into the loving arms of my sweet Tennessee Whiskey. During the early morning hours of September 22, I encountered her in an Orlando apartment complex. The hour was around 3:00. My friend Eric and I spent the prior six hours going and returning from a John Kerry rally at the TD Waterhouse Center. I only wish I’d have had some of the JD during the nearly four hour wait.
I went with a friend, Zach, to play pool at the River wind clubhouse around 12:30 a.m. After that, we were rebuffed entry into TGI Friday’s and the Orlando Ale House. Finally, we settled on the Steak and Shake. Those details are not germane to the story at hand.
We arrived home at Riverwind around 2:30. Zach followed Eric and I up to his apartment. Clearly, Zach was anticipating some level of inebriation to commence. Eric’s roommate Evan was sitting on the couch watching television when we walked in. Briefly, I walked into Eric’s room and we caucused for a few moments. I asked him to serve me one or two shots of Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey. He agreed to that arrangement and we seated ourselves in the general area. Eric cleaned out a cup and made me a mixed drink of Pepsi and JD. In retrospect, that was not the best idea. I think it took me about 15 minutes to get down one shot of the JD. I was feeling sort of awkward. We had Zach sitting next to Eric on the couch, with myself seated at a table. They could see me visibly struggling to consume the drink. Eventually, I was able to get it down. I hardly noticed that I’d drank about 30 ounces of Pepsi Cola in the process. Eric gave me another shot, but this time I drank it straight. It took about five sips, but I got the JD down. I was beginning to feel more comfortable.
I began to feel a sense of relief after drinking the two shots of JD, TW. I thought that the experience for that night was over with, and I would go to sleep in preparation for my 11:00 a.m. class the next morning. I managed not to make any giant scene, similar to the one that transpired in April 2003. I did feel like I would throw up, but that got better as time progressed. Anytime you drink something foreign, something so undesirable, it takes a while to get used to.
I tapped Eric on the shoulder and ordered him to join my in the bedroom. Sorry if that sounds more elicit than I intended. Zach followed us and we had a three-way caucus in the bedroom. I asked Eric if I had drunk enough to experience any meaningful effects. In his assessment, there was too much time taken (~30 minutes) and too much of a chaser. I was driving a hard bargain at the beginning. But deep down, I was more open to the experience than I had been 18 months prior. I was legitimately ready to drink some portion of alcohol, whether it be tonight or when I returned in October. I had honest concerns about my class the next day, along with having to drive so early in the morning. In my heart, I knew that I would be drinking more that night.
Part II… The Bargaining Process (absent a filibuster this time)
Since that day, I fell back into the loving arms of my sweet Tennessee Whiskey. During the early morning hours of September 22, I encountered her in an Orlando apartment complex. The hour was around 3:00. My friend Eric and I spent the prior six hours going and returning from a John Kerry rally at the TD Waterhouse Center. I only wish I’d have had some of the JD during the nearly four hour wait.
I went with a friend, Zach, to play pool at the River wind clubhouse around 12:30 a.m. After that, we were rebuffed entry into TGI Friday’s and the Orlando Ale House. Finally, we settled on the Steak and Shake. Those details are not germane to the story at hand.
We arrived home at Riverwind around 2:30. Zach followed Eric and I up to his apartment. Clearly, Zach was anticipating some level of inebriation to commence. Eric’s roommate Evan was sitting on the couch watching television when we walked in. Briefly, I walked into Eric’s room and we caucused for a few moments. I asked him to serve me one or two shots of Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey. He agreed to that arrangement and we seated ourselves in the general area. Eric cleaned out a cup and made me a mixed drink of Pepsi and JD. In retrospect, that was not the best idea. I think it took me about 15 minutes to get down one shot of the JD. I was feeling sort of awkward. We had Zach sitting next to Eric on the couch, with myself seated at a table. They could see me visibly struggling to consume the drink. Eventually, I was able to get it down. I hardly noticed that I’d drank about 30 ounces of Pepsi Cola in the process. Eric gave me another shot, but this time I drank it straight. It took about five sips, but I got the JD down. I was beginning to feel more comfortable.
I began to feel a sense of relief after drinking the two shots of JD, TW. I thought that the experience for that night was over with, and I would go to sleep in preparation for my 11:00 a.m. class the next morning. I managed not to make any giant scene, similar to the one that transpired in April 2003. I did feel like I would throw up, but that got better as time progressed. Anytime you drink something foreign, something so undesirable, it takes a while to get used to.
I tapped Eric on the shoulder and ordered him to join my in the bedroom. Sorry if that sounds more elicit than I intended. Zach followed us and we had a three-way caucus in the bedroom. I asked Eric if I had drunk enough to experience any meaningful effects. In his assessment, there was too much time taken (~30 minutes) and too much of a chaser. I was driving a hard bargain at the beginning. But deep down, I was more open to the experience than I had been 18 months prior. I was legitimately ready to drink some portion of alcohol, whether it be tonight or when I returned in October. I had honest concerns about my class the next day, along with having to drive so early in the morning. In my heart, I knew that I would be drinking more that night.
Part II… The Bargaining Process (absent a filibuster this time)
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