Friends, ’tis no great secret that I enjoy alcohol. And why not? To quote the brilliant Homer Simpson: “Here’s to alcohol! The cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems.” And when it comes to alcohol, I’ve had some problems.
But nothing serious, God no. I mean, I’ve had problems when it comes to buying the right alcohol. I’ve made some mistakes. Please learn from mine. Here are bad alcohol purchases I’ve made and what they say about me.
Root Beer Liqueur
I know — why on God’s beautiful alcohol-laden earth did I decide to make this purchase? There were a few factors. 1.) Root beer! Who doesn’t love root beer? 2.) My mom encouraged it and purchased it for me. And when someone buys you booze, you drink it and say thank you.
This sat in my cabinet for close to a year. And no, it does not get better with age. It is grossly sweet and heavy. Like some sort of diabolical cough syrup. It was like trying to drink an oil painting. An oil painting of sad.
WHAT IT SAYS ABOUT ME: I am still a little kid at heart who wants the best of both worlds: root beer and booze. I can’t have both. It’s time to grow up.
Ariel, the Non-Alcoholic Wine
I was in a rush. I was broke. I went to the discounted wine section of the store. The price was right. The wine was not. The wine wasn’t even wine. It was basically glorified grape juice. Apparently, Ariel is a non-alcoholic wine. Which I didn’t figure out until I was about 5 sips in. “Why does this taste so…off?” I wondered. Then I read the label.
Yes, this is my fault for not reading the label. But what kind of sick fuck places non-alcoholic wine amidst the regular wine? It’s like they WANTED this to happen. Don’t worry, I cut it with vodka. It was…okay.
WHAT IT SAYS ABOUT ME: I need to slow down and pay closer attention to what I’m doing.
Janis Joplin chugged Southern Comfort (or “SoCo”) so I thought, if it’s good enough for her, it’s good enough for me. And it was, for a while. SoCo lime (Southern Comfort with fresh lime juice, usually taken as a shot) was fantastic. And then recently, I bought a bottle because it was majorly discounted.
Want to know WHY it was majorly discounted? Apparently, they changed their formula in 2010 or 2011 that made Southern Comfort more of a liqueur, and less of an actual whiskey. From Wikipedia: “Although the original product contained whiskey, the current formula for Southern Comfort only contains whiskey-tasting flavoring rather than actual whiskey (except for the premium version called ‘Special Reserve’).”
To quote Bruce Brian Billings, “Southern Comfort tastes like Southern vomit.” I tried to mix it with water and cranberry juice, which weirdly made it better, but I still can’t bring myself to drink it. I tried my beloved SoCo lime, but goddamn you need a lot of lime in there. Basically, it’s crap. It’s a crap drink and I will never buy it or order it again. Unless I can take a time machine to the ’70s when shit was good. Or at least, acceptable.
WHAT IT SAYS ABOUT ME: I am nostalgic for a time period I wasn’t even alive for, and this makes me stupidly optimistic and painfully unglamorous.
Red Wine From the 99 Cent Store
I know, I know, it’s like I wasn’t expecting anything good from this. I bought it because I wanted to make Kalimotxos. The best way to make those is with Mexican Coke (the SODA) and the cheapest red wine you can find. I found both those things at the 99 cent store.
What I didn’t count on was the red wine tasting like nail polish. No, I don’t drink nail polish, but trust me. You smell it and you just somehow taste nail polish.
WHAT IT SAYS ABOUT ME: I can be too cheap for my own good.
That Diabolical Pink Vodka Whose Name I Blocked Out
The whole evening wasn’t set up for triumph. We were looking to purchase booze to do our first ever drunk podcast with Matt and Christina of the podcast “Let’s Talk About Feelings.” I wanted to bring something fun to the party. So I found some moderately priced Pepto colored pink vodka.
Do you want to know what Pepto pink vodka looks like coming up? IT LOOKS EXACTLY THE SAME. But more…rubbery. Yeah, you grossed out? I was, too. I vomited the whole way home in a Trader Joes bag as my boyfriend drove while miraculously not breaking up with me.
WHAT IT SAYS ABOUT ME: I am easily swayed by pretty colors and good marketing. No more “cute” bottles of booze.
Gross White Wine I Bought Twice By Mistake
Again, this is a classic example of why trying to save money can backfire. I found a bottle of either Pino Grigio or Sauvignon Blanc. I still can’t remember which it was, which comes into play later. The bottle was around 3-5 dollars. It tasted like…rotted fruit. Or rotted something. In my entire life, it’s the only glass of wine I wasn’t able to finish. I think my boyfriend took it off my hands. I couldn’t. Something about it just tasted wrong. Like Rosemary’s Baby wrong. “Oh well,” I thought. “Never again.”
But guess what? I DID do it again. I couldn’t remember if the bad wine was the Gris or the Blanc. I chose poorly. I chose the same goddamn bottle of ass-wine. After one sip I realized the horrible mistake I made. This wine tasted like evil grapes. Like super pissed-off grapes who didn’t want to be wine. Who wanted something better for themselves.
WHAT IT SAYS ABOUT ME: As with the Ariel lesson, I need to be more attentive and aware of what I’m buying. And since I still don’t remember which one it was, I avoid the bottom shelf of white wines at Vons entirely. Unless it’s a super weird name that I know I’ve never tried. Which I’m sure will go over really well but, guys…don’t stop believing.
What are YOUR biggest booze blunders and what did they say about YOU?