None for me, thanks: Booze we won't drink
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Maybe it's the smell, maybe it's a bad memory of an ill-advised night, maybe it's a worm sitting at the bottom of the bottle – for whatever reason, most of us have a drink we won't touch.
Here are the tipples that send us running for cover. Add yours using the talkback feature at the bottom.
Picks: Creme de menthe and gin martinis
I don't know if creme de menthe really qualifies as booze because it is, technically, a fine liqueur that is usually drunk by people's grandmas. I used to drink it all the time at Christmas with my family, mostly because I liked the little crystal glasses we used, but I always had the sneaking suspicion that without the cute glasses, I would hate it. Because let's face it: it tastes like a leprechaun threw up. So now I've sworn it off. What can I say? I was trying to be classy.
I once had a classic martini, no olive or fruity garnishes, because I wanted to be a badass like Don Draper and feel like I could hang with the boys. It turns out I cannot hang with the boys. It tasted like rubbing alcohol and burned my eyes, and I made my dad finish it. I'm sure this is the sort of thing that grows on you over time, but my eyes could only take so much. I never tried it again and now I only drink girly, fruity, Sex-and-the-City concoctions that would make Don Draper weep.
Pick: Scottish coffee
One drink I'll never have is Scottish coffee. Cruel joke, Scots.
Pick: More than one margarita
There really isn't a booze I refuse. However, too much tequila seems to flood out the filter between my brain and my mouth. It also makes me a little mean. Hence, a few years ago I enacted a "one and done" policy on margaritas. This has served me well.
I'm also not a fan of peach schnapps, due to a bad high school experience, but I will drink it mixed into other cocktails.
For years now, I've been off tequila. I'll spare you the long story, but when a record label dude who promised to show at a St. Louis gig didn't turn up, I let our then-bass player ply me with tequila and, egads, Goldschlager – that's pretty much always been on my "don't-drink list" – and ever since, the scent of tequila has been enough to make me run. I will admit, however, that I've softened a bit and have had some tiny nips of high quality tequila in recent years. So, I should clarify "cheap tequila," but, honestly, I'll never be able to look at any tequila again for long and I'm OK with that.
I won't touch gin. Never, ever, ever. Why? Because it tastes like gasoline to me, but also because the last time I drank a gin and tonic – in New Orleans in 1995 – I threw up. I don't actually blame the gin for that; it was more about the Hurricanes and a gross hot dog on Bourbon Street, but I still find gin revolting. Mixed with anything, it's too gross for me.
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