OUR WORLD:
My friends and I had a discussion a couple weeks back where we tried to rank the best drinks of the week. Keep in mind, this is not a ranking of the best drinks of your life, like after some crowing achievement or overcoming some adversity, simply the best drinks of a normal boring-ass week. While my friends, nicknamed “Thunder” and “Cash Out”, had differing opinions (that I don’t remember because we were on martini numero tres at this point in the night), I believe that the following list is THE definitive drink of the week ranking….er, list….YOU GET IT!
I’m gonna count down from 5 to 1 because I’m a storyteller who likes to build suspense…
5) Tuesday night, at about 6:41 P.M., the Double IPA you drink as you prepare dinner. Your Monday nightmare is but a distant memory now, and having made it through Tuesday as well means that you’re back in your weekly routine. Tuesday was a long day, but you’re in full-on “weekday work-mode” now, so it’s okay. You got off work, went to the gym and took an extra long run because the Monday workout was more about ridding weekend toxins, than actually improving your health. Tuesday at the gym is about proving to yourself that you’re not the fat piece of shit that your thighs say you are (sitting in a car while wearing jeans that just came out of the drier puts me under the deepest of deep depressions when I look down at my thighs and pray that they don’t burst through my pants. I swear I could hear my thighs screaming for help.) So you ran far enough to sweat through your dirty hat, and you got home in time to make a meal that takes just long enough to enjoy every little sip of the Double IPA that you so rightly earned on the treadmill. It’ll be your only beer of the night because it’s high ABV, but you’ll savor every. single. sip.
4) Sunday morning, at about 10:24 A.M., the Bloody Mary you drink at your favorite comfort-food brunch spot. Sunday mornings can be rough, and this is no exception. You stayed out too late the night before and snuck a cigarette with your friend who smokes when your spouse was busy making fun of you behind your back (or, in my case, you vaped like an absolute fiend because you’ve convinced yourself that vaping is kinda healthy…) Your mouth tastes like desert garbage and all you really want to do is curl up in sweatpants and wait for the Sunday night depression to hit. BUT! You told your kinda-friends two weeks ago that you’d meet for brunch, so you have to shower and wear a shirt that doesn’t have late-night salsa stains on it. Your spouse asks if there’s any Advil left. There is, but there’s only 2 and you’re holding the bottle so you lie and say “no”…then close your bathroom door and pour the last 2 into your hand slow enough that it doesn’t make that bottle-rattle sound and blow your cover. The walk or uber to brunch is all about convincing yourself that you’re “not actually that hungover,” but you are. The Bloody Mary at this place has some fun cheese and meat things that come in it, but you’re kinda scared to order it because alcohol is the devil. You order it, though, because you’re not a NARC and it IS the weekend. You’ll really really enjoy the first half of it as it washes over your hangover and brings you back to the “kinda loopy and feeling not hungover”-phase of being drunk. It’s the last truly enjoyable buzz of the weekend because nighttime is far enough away that you can pretend it’s not coming.
3) Saturday late-afternoon, at about 4:17 P.M., the I.P.A. you have to set the base for the rest of your AGGRESSIVE night. (I’m realizing that there are people reading this who have kids and, I just want to say that I’m sorry that I’m still in the aggressive Saturday night drinking phase of my life. Am I ashamed of it? Slightly. But, by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, I’m so excited about going out that I tuck the shame away in my “I’ll deal with this on Monday”-dresser drawer.) Plan is to meet up with friends at a shitty-in-a-good-way bar a little after 5. You’re ready and your spouse is in the shower, so it’s time to put on some sporting event you don’t really care about and to properly enjoy a good beer before you dive into the “get me whatever you’re getting” bar orders for the rest of the night. Now is the time to use your favorite, most beer-snobby, fancy beer glass. Be sure to pour it slow and make sex noises after your first sip; this is the last time that you’ll be truly enjoying the taste of what you’re drinking for the rest of the night. This beer will also be a quick topic of conversation early on in the night, when you try to prove to your friends that you have taste by talking about a beer they’ve never heard of.
2) Friday lunch, at about 12:21 P.M., the margarita you get with your co-workers at the Mexican restaurant by your office. The morning meetings are over, and you still have to send a few e-mails out, but you’ve effectively made it to the weekend. It’s time for chips and salsa and marg(s) (stick to one marg, guys…once you go for the second in front of co-workers, you’re known as THAT lunch-drunk-guy). Bitching about the job is ALWAYS the topic, and this is the most acceptable time and place for it. Get all the bitching out now because your spouse has heard ENOUGH throughout the week, and if you bring more of that shit into the weekend SHE’S GONNA LOSE IT! (Can we make a cool looking medallion that says “No Work Talk” that we all wear around our necks from Friday night through Sunday night? Feels like a piece of jewelry a hipster would wear and not admit that they got it at Urban Outfitters…”Urban Outfitters? No, I only shop at thrift stores.”) Get ready for a lot of deep exhales and “we made it to Friday”-headshakes. They’re gonna feel good and earned and your co-workers are gonna nod at you overtime you do one because they know…they know…
1) Thursday night, when you’re alone at about 7:02 P.M., the martini that you carefully measure out and make like you’re a bartender whose rent depends on the tip you’ll get from this one drink. This is a special time that was great when you were single and now only happens when your spouse is out of town or out for the night at a work event. Does it mean you don’t love your significant other? I mean, maybe…like, why are you with them? (To the 4 people reading this who are in bad relationships, now is when you look at yourself in the mirror and think about sad stuff…we’ll wait…) You’re not in a relationship crisis, but getting to celebrate heading into Friday by crafting a nice cocktail by yourself is simply exhilarating. There is no need for you to put music on or anything while you do this; the sound of almost-Friday silence is melodic and able to perfectly harmonize with the sounds your shaker makes while chilling your gin martini or old fashioned or some other drink they serve at the restaurant you only go to on your birthday. If you have a dog, they’ll come over and you’ll say something to them like “we did it.” Do you normally take pictures of your meal when you go out to eat? Of course not, those people don’t read this blog. But, maybe you take a picture of this drink you just made. You don’t need to send it out, but there should be a record of it somewhere. Next time you do this, toss a 5 dollar bill on your kitchen counter because you deserve a tip.
*In case insurance people or doctors or my in-laws read this, I would like to state that this is a hypothetical week and does not mean that I imbibe in all of these drinks every week…not, every week…IT’S HYPOTHETICAL! THAT MEANS, LIKE, NOT TOTALLY REAL-LIFE!
MY WORLD:
*Every once in a while, I’m going to need to throw a George Costanza-style rant your way. Today is one of those days. Please indulge the following:
The VP and I had the new “Jersey Shore” show on in the background while she cooked dinner and I looked at my phone like a slob last night. We weren’t really watching, except to comment about JWoww’s newly-mangled face (wrinkles are better than plastic surgery-face) and The Situation being sober and…why is he on the show, then? Anyway, during the show or maybe in a commercial or something (I was busy being an instagram slob, guys!) I heard someone say, “you know, you should really travel more.” What an obnoxious thing to say.
When I heard it, I walked into the kitchen to rant at The VP about how mad it made me. Is there anyone ALIVE who thinks to themselves “I’m glad I don’t travel”? You know what? “I’ve got the next twelve years off and a ton of zeroes in my bank account, but this couch is pretty comfy and I love not knowing anything about life outside this country!” The reason people don’t travel more is because…hmmm….let’s put on our detective hats…oh wait, it’s BECAUSE TRAVELING IS EXPENSIVE! Would you ever tell someone “you know, you should really make more money”? NO, because you’re not trying to set the world record for being-an-asshole. Aside from the ludicrous content of this message, it’s always made worse because the person saying it is thinking they’re some Advice God selflessly gifting wisdom on the uncultured alley rats of society. Get da fuck outta’ here with that shit!
I wish I could say that made me feel better, but I’m still mad that people think saying “you should travel more” is not only acceptable, but needed advice. GOD THAT MAKES ME SO MAD!
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
Uh oh, is Jimmy suggesting a song that hipsters might like? Giddy up! This is a perfect song to listen to when you’re getting stressed out and wondering if it’s time to cry alone in your car.
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
BuzzFeed can go straight to hell.
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
Good thing I didn’t listen to my advice and bet on Milwaukee over Philly last night. Philly won by seven billion points, if you missed it. It’s time for me to huddle with my crew and figure out NBA playoff futures. At first glance, I don’t hate Cleveland getting +650 to win the title. However, that means I’d have to root for LeBron and that sounds awful to me…The East stinks, though, and once they’re in the ‘ship you never know what kind of injuries Houston or Golden State could be dealing with. Who’s gonna talk me out of this?
(My account currently at $256.83)
K bye.
Jimmy's Chair 