You know when you are wandering, bleary-eyed, down a back alley in some godforsaken mid-sized industrial town, trying desperately to remember where you left your car when all of a sudden you feel that terrible urgency in your stomach that presages a bout of nasty projectile vomiting? Â You drop to your knees and, one hand braced against the filthy, greasy side of a battered dumpster, you prepare to retch up the thin, burning liquid that is all that you have left to give and you ask yourself, “Why God, why?” as your diaphragm spasms and drool hangs from your lip like a strand of pure liquid despair. Â At that exact moment you hear a furtive scrambling in the shadows and look to the side, barely able to turn your head, and you see two giant, fat raccoons fucking.
They notice you and pause and the male turns to look at you with a creepy preternatural intelligence glowing in his eyes. Â There is a pause, all is quiet, your stomach clenches but seems to be waiting for something when the raccoon unexpectedly opens his mouth and asks “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a copy of Kierkegaard’s ‘Fear and Trembling’ on you, would you?”
Hope. Â That’s what this cocktail feels like. Â Pure hope.
The Cavity Search
A cocktail created in honor of Senor Amor’s recent humiliating and debilitating sinus surgery.
- 1 oz. Gin (Plymouth)
- 1 oz. Green Chartreuse
- 1/2 oz. Lemon Juice
- 1/2 oz. Bar Syrup
Shake and strain into chilled cocktail glass rinsed with absinthe. Â Garnish with a maraschino cherry.