“Blender’s broke.”
You sir, are a liar. I am poigniantly aware that your blender is fully operational, but that you dislike using it. If it was just for my frozen drink, maybe; but frozen drinks spread like gonorrhea, and you don’t want to unleash patient zero on your bar. I get that – I feel the struggle. Here why “f*** you and make my drink” though.
- Frozen drinks are delicious. About this, there can be no debate. I like pineapple and I like coconut, and piña coladas are, as a delivery system for those two flavors, as cruelly efficient as a German prostitute. Build a better mousetrap and we’ll talk. Until then, we are at an impasse.
- Frozen drinks are adored by women. We all know this to be correct, and yet no one acts upon it to their advantage. Next time you see a group (gaggle? flock?) of women huddled at a bar, order them a round of Strawberry Daquiris. You? In. Meanwhile, the guy who was going to get them Miller Lites will be on a street corner kicking a tin can. No one denies this.
- Frozen drinks are deceptively strong. To wit, here is the recipe for the Frozen Rum Runner: equal parts pineapple juice, orange juice, blackberry liqueur, banana liqueur, light rum, and dark rum. That’s four against two, favoring the schlockered side. And we haven’t mentioned the “floater”. Oh yes, the floater. A shot of 151 in the straw. You know what a floater is in another drink? It’s a double.
- Frozen drinks have a limited window of opportunity. When it’s balls hot and sunny, I will mess up a Frozen Mudslide. Cool and refreshing. No one drinks frozen drinks at midnight in February, so sack up for the Summer season.
- Frozen drinks are not as difficult as you purport. I’m looking at you, twenty-two year old bartender. When I was your age, we didn’t have an Island Oasis machine premeasuring our ice into a special blender, with special mixes in little cartons. You don’t even have to scoop ice. I’m not asking you to drill a hole in a fresh coconut (Although that would be awesome. Have you ever tried that? It’s like having sex with a unicorn.), so your reluctance boils down to not wanting to rinse out the blender. That’s lazy, even by my estimable standards. (To say nothing of the bars with the Slurpee machines full of intoxicants. You guys have no excuse.)
- Frozen drinks are self limiting. I have, on several occasions, gone into the double digits in my evening beer consumption. This is also true with mixed drinks, wine, cider, shots, grog, mead, port, and shandies (I have a problem). Not so with frozen drinks, because of the brain freeze. So even if I am a pain in your ass, I will only be so three or four times. Tonight.
In conclusion, your mother is a whore.
