What Your Cocktail Says About You

Last week, I had a very magical experience.

I drank possibly the best Old Fashioned ever made. Lemme spill the details:

WHO: Served by hunky beefcake bartender named Hart. (Yes, that’s his real name. No, he’s not single. But you can probably bounce a quarter off that ass.)
WHAT: An outstanding Old Fashioned made with Bulleit Rye. And simple syrup instead of sugar. No cherry. And just a twist of orange. #Orgasmic
WHERE: Fox N Hounds in Studio City.
WHY: I was thirsty.

Hart is gorgeous…but kinda camera-shy.

As I slowly sipped the alcoholic ambrosia, I realized that just a few years ago, I never would have enjoyed such a heavenly concoction. I spent most of the last decade gagging at the scent of whiskey. Bourbon made me wanna barf. But as time goes on and our palates develop, our tastes tend to evolve.

I thought about the last 15 years. How have my cocktail preferences changed? And what do they say about me and what’s going on in my life?

Hard Cider

“Hi, I’m a freshman in college. I met some sketchy boys who work at a gas station. They are sneaking this boozy apple juice into my dorm. They’re much older than I am but who cares? This sh*t tastes amazing! And they know so much about biofuels!”

How much cider could a Woodchuck chuck if a Woodchuck could chuck cider?


“Hi, I was getting fat from drinking too much cider. Now I just throw back shots and get overly intoxicated in the span of 18 minutes. I wake up in another city wearing someone else’s pants, covered in glitter, shame, and hot dog buns. Hangovers make me want to die.”

Evil. Just plain evil.


“Hi,  I can never drink tequila again after the other night. The smell of tequila invokes an involuntary sputter way down in the deepest pit of my stomach. A nice lovely vodka soda with lime is simple, plain, and much easier to digest. Kinda like toast. And speaking of breakfast, it’s okay to drink vodka in the morning if it’s inside a Bloody Mary.”

Whiskey (the “training wheels kind”)

“Hi, I want to seem like a cool whiskey drinkin’ chick, but I still want my drink to taste like candy, so please go light on the Seagrams 7, and heavy on the 7-Up. Oh, and I need like 4 slices of lemon and lime. But trust me, I’m cool!”

Whiskey (the “getting better kind”)

“Hi,  I’m graduating off of the whiskey toddler bicycle. I kinda love the smokiness of Johnny Black. And HOLY SH*T, Christina Hendricks is one of the most stunning creatures on earth.” #boobs #girlcrush

Meowwwww. You little minx.

Whiskey (“the Holy Grail kind”)

“Hi, I’m definitely not VIP enough to get my paws on this stuff, but I’m working on befriending people who can. Should a sip of this nectar pass my lips, I shall cheer with quiet delight, because I’m f*cking classy.”

Gimme gimme gimme!

Cheers, my friends!

Husband material.