When I got home from work today, I really wanted a beer. But we were all out. So I figured I’d settle for some Maker’s. All gone. Wine? Bupkiss. All I had left in my liquor cabinet was the nearly full bottle of Galliano from the time I (wrongly) thought a Harvey Wallbanger would be good based soley on the virtue of its name and a bottle of dark rum that I purchased several years ago in the mistaken belief that Hot Buttered Rum would make all the extended family less annoying at Christmas.
Galliano was out of the question. I mean, come on… it’s a liquer. So I figured I’d try a bit of rum and coke. It was my first drink, after all. Unfortunately, I could barely bring myself to take a single sip. Before the tumbler even reached my lips, the smell made me want to hurl. Then I tasted the drink. It was, of course, mixed perfectly and even had the requisite twist of lime. The problem wasn’t my bartending skill, it was the libation.
Ever since I drank an entire fifth of malibu rum as an incredibly foolish and overly enthusiastic freshman in college, the odor and taste of rum of any kind has made me ill. And not in the Beastie Boys sense of the word. Since that was more than 10 years ago now, I figured maybe I had outgrown my revulsion for The Best Thing To Ever Happen To Sugar.
Oh well.
Has anybody ever outgrown a taste or smell aversion? I still can’t eat pumpkin pie either, but I can’t imagine anybody in their right mind wanting to eat something that shares more in common (texture, color, odor) with baby shit than dessert.
Everyone who went to college has That Drink that is tained forever. Statistically speaking, 75.44% are tequila, and the rest are primarily a mix of jeagermeister, rumpleminze, schnapps, vodka, and Jack/SoCo.
I was like that with vodka after downing almost a fifth of Popov (WTF was I thinking…oh, right, freshman. College. I wasn’t.), but now I enjoy vodka, so 15 years is apparently my threshold.
I still can’t eat pumpkin pie either, but I can’t imagine anybody in their right mind wanting to eat something that shares more in common (texture, color, odor) with baby shit than dessert.
Okra, baby, okra. I can’t get near that stuff, just because it’s like the textbook definition of mucilagenous.
I had to look ‘mucilagenous’ up. I think you meant Meconium.
The funny thing is, when I started googling for Meconium, I couldn’t figure out how to spell it well enough for Google to find it, so I did a search for infant fecal matter (no quote marks). The Google preview on the first few hits have pretty much destroyed any hope I may have had for humanity’s future.
For me it’s Smirnoff Orange Twist Vodka. I think I downed half a 750 ml bottle in less than a half hour my first time drinking as a 120 lb freshman. I still can’t even drink a Screwdriver without gagging. So 6 years… not enough time.
I once downed the better part of a fifth of SoCo. Now, that in and of itself wasn’t a big deal - at the time I was a really heavy drinker and routinely downing a fifth of liquor two nights a week.
however I’d decided to get fancy and get the 120 proof SoCo. I underestimated how badly it would go over. To this day I can’t drink or smell SoCo.
Back when I was about 12 or 13 I took up chewing. I used Copenhagen. One night on a $20.00 bet I swallowed a whole Tin(can) and washed it down with RC cola. I was Projectile Vomiting for the next several hours. I still to this day want to hurl when I smell it.
Captain Morgan’s. Not 'cause I drank too much of it back in college, but because I drank a single rum-n-coke, after which the ulcer that apparently had been percolating made itself known in most painful fashion.
Popov, on the other hand, even though I had a similar young-and-stupid-drank-most-of-the-fifth experience, never developed an aversion. Lord knows I should’ve.
I can’t drink gin. I don’t even really know what it tastes like. A couple years ago, on my birthday, my friends bought me a row of shots, mystery shots. There were five shots, and I was only allowed to try and figure out what they were by taste. I did the vodka, the tequila, and a girl shot just fine.
Then I got to the shot that was gin mixed with tequila.
I swallowed it, and before I even had a chance to not like the taste or have my stomach make even a quarter churn, I beefed it all over the floor of the bar. It was only 8:15 pm, I was pretty much sober.
I finished the last shot and drank a beer while I lamented the waste of three dollars that was my recently ingested teriyaki wings, playfully splattered across the terrain. My friend who bought me that particular shot then proceeded to get me kicked out of the bar for puking. There wasn’t even a bouncer on duty yet. They had to have a cook do it.
One bottle of 100% proof Southern Comfort + me and a friend are already totally sloshed = one empty bottle of Southern Comfort + I spend the entire next day throwing up in the bathroom.
Yes. When I decided that I should really make an effort to eat more healthily, I came to the conclusion that drinking a can of V8 each day would be a quick way to increase my daily portions of vegetables. I hate tomatoes and tomato juice. It made me gag the first few times I drank it, but I just guzzled it down as fast as possible. Now I quite like the flavour. So you have to want to get over the aversion, and you have to be willing to stick to it. It will pass after a while.
Too much Tequila Pigs (a drinking game with little rubber pig dice). Too much nasty shots. Too much projectile vomit.
Of course, the one time I finished the bit in the bottom of a bottle of scotch and then chased it with vodka and I went blind - that didn’t leave any bad impression.
