The Adventures of a 35yo (Alcohol) Virgin

hit counter
hit counter At 35 years old, I had never tasted, tried or drank an alcoholic drink of any kind. During 2012 that all changes drink by drink and you get to enjoy the results post by post.

Permalink Sweet Muscat WineYou know what keeps me happy sometimes? Being surprised by the universe here and there. Keeps me from feeling like I’m becoming jaded. Just every so often I’ll experience a series of entertaining, sometimes annoying, often oddly surprising moments that will give me pause.Take last Wednesday, for example. For Joey’s birthday this year, we and our friends Courtney & Jordan got tickets to a summer concert. It was at Wolf Trap, a local open air venue with tickets for the lawn. For you see, on the lawn, we can eat, drink and be merry on the grass and under the stars. It is summer, after all.It was a Bare Naked Ladies concert. Joey loves them. I’m personally on the fence. I mean look, I can say with great conviction now, that for the most part, BNL are basically the Wiggles for adults. Bouncy, goofy, they repeat themselves a lot and everyone around them are sipping off bottles and dancing awkwardly. But that wasn’t the surprise of the night. No. Everyone knows BNL are goofballs that white people fawn over. No the surprise my friends, took the form of a series of impressive American Sign Language interpreters stationed on the side of the stage. For you see, apparently the Wolf Trap is not just a concert venue, but also a National Park and arts center. So they try and offer an ASL interpreter for every show all summer long.Pretty bad ass, if you ask me. But here is where the surprise got impressive.  Do you remember BNL’s big hit “One Week”? You know the speedy, quick-as-lightening-lyrical upbeat little ditty that almost borders on Canadian rap?  Right, that one.Well the woman performing ASL knocked that particular song out of the f’ing park. They had been round-robining the interpreters for much of the concert. And they were all great, bopping to the music, signing the words. Even the band played into this, goofing around, talking in-between sets to make her sign crazy little things.  But “One Week” is it’s own beast. But the interpreter was a pro. She was full of steam and chugging away, signing the song like the real rockstar. So much so, the audience went from going ape-shit-bananas over hearing the song and started cheering wildly for the interpreter, even ending with a standing ovation—everyone facing the woman, letting her drink in this moment. In fact even BNL walked over and bowed down to her.It was epic. It was refreshing and impressive, a nice humanity-affirming surprise of the night. In fact, it was almost amazing enough to make me forget about the terrible wine I bought for the evening.  Did you forget this was a drinking blog? Yeah, I kinda did too for a moment. Sorry.Oh that fucking terrible wine.And it’s all my fault. See, when I choose my own mixed drinks and cocktails, I’m fine. Shots, I’m ok. But beers and wines. No, lord no. I need a Sherpa for those choices. And I’m ok with this, but choosing the Sweet Muscat Wine only confirms it.Made in Greece by Samos Vin Deux, the Muscat is from a community collective and are made with tiny little sweet yellow grapes. Did I say sweet? Because I meant sweet. Like sugar water mixed with grape juice and then blended with Splenda and honey sweet. Sweet. Sweet.Sweet.Oh sweet lord, sweet.It was so gross. Like we poured the wine in cups for all four of us and it was Jordan who looked me straight in the eyes and simply said “Dude.” Can I take a moment?  Thanks.  If you don’t know, the simple “dude” can say so very much when wielded by a guy for a guy. It can mean “Wow, this is amazing.” or “Holy shit, did you see that?” or “Woah, do you smell what I smell?“  or “Damn, did you see those?”But, yeah, no. This “dude” basically meant “Are you kidding me, Ben? Are you trying to give me diabetes? Epic fail, man. Epic fail.”It was totally deserved. The wine was straight sugar, and had far more of an alcohol scent than flavor. It had this odd honey-like kool-aid style flavor, fruity, with a sweet green grape finish. It had a candied lemon peel appeal, a little tart in the backnote. Look, it was so sweet it was hard to frown, but we were far from happy. It had a touch of tin in it’s sip and would have been pretty one-note if it wasn’t so layered in it’s sugars. Oh, but to be fair the sugary delivery of BNL almost rivaled the wine. Or at least that was my jaded perspective. Courtney, Jordan and Joe were bopping along, singing, cheering and even dancing a little. It was adorable. Maybe the sweet alcohol overtook them. Or those Freddy Spaghetti melodies. Who knows. But it was a good night by all. So my crap choices in wine aside, it was a pretty wonderful night to celebrate Joey’s 31 years on this earth. Great friends, solid music, entertaining wine and a beautiful night on the lawn. I’m a lucky guy. My blood alcohol content is now 31% sucrose, but I’m a damn lucky guy.Cheers, Ben
Permalink

checking in, thinking, drinking and being late to my own party…

…Basically, this is a long ass title to express that I’m 6 drinks behind on the blog and to let you know they’re coming. They are. I swear.

Joe and I moved to DC to expand our lives, make more money, do exciting new things, make new friends, explore more of this country, and enjoy a better life. This past week we had something exciting going on every. single. night. with friends, fun and family. In fact, we didn’t make it home from one event or another before 11pm every night. It was insane.

Note: these are not complaints.

We’re cooking for friends, attending concerts, running charity happy hours, having date nights, traveling with new friends to river cottages… seriously, absolutely no complaints. This is the life of lives.

But it’s having an affect on my blogging. Not my drinking, mind you. But certainly my blogging. And I’m going to repair this problem this week, trust that. I have 6 drinks to share… some awesome classics and modern classics. You won’t want to miss them. But in the meantime, I need to fucking sleep. Do you sleep? I miss sleep. Oh, to dream to sleep. sleeeeep. (I miss you)

So tonight you get an apology, I get to sleep and tomorrow you get a post on some disgustingly sweet wine and a concert. Thanks for your patience. And brace for impact, the blogs are coming…

Cheers, Ben

Permalink Drink & bark for dogs at the Blue Banana! Our monthly charity Yappy Hour this Thursday the 12th is Christmas in July! This is event is being hosted by The Blue Banana and The Adventures of a 35-Year-Old Alcohol Virgin. Spread the word and we hope to see you there. Washington Post called this the Happy Hour of the Week!
Permalink Samuel Smith’s Organic CiderThere are a few things I get kinda excited/nerdy about: superhero movies, office supplies, developing cool inventions, creating non-profit programs and fundraising ideas and helping people with their resumes.As to the resume thing, I don’t know why. Even in my very first professional job, I was working with late teens and early 20somethings and part of my role as manager or supervisor was to help them with resumes or career advice and it’s always been something that I found pleasure in.So anytime anyone says “hey, would you be willing to look at my resume and give me any feedback?” I get this weird twinge of excitement. I know, it sounds weird. I just assume it’s like those people who love gardening, or tech, or chocolate or porn. It gets me pumped. Gets me hot. I like to see how people present themselves, think about their best attributes, organize their thoughts. And I like to be helpful in that adventure. Sometimes I find that people are so template-based in building their resumes that they virtually show no personality. Or they’re trying too hard, multi-fonts, too many colors, dozens of bullets, every job ever worked listed. Oh, you’re 32 and you’re listing your high school summer landscaping job? To highlight your early background in self management and hardworking spirit? I see.Hey, why are you mentioning you are “proficient in computer skills”. You’re 28. You should be fluent. “Proficient” looks like a downgrade, at best.You were Junior Class President in High School? Awesome. As a 40 year old looking for work in IT that’s really important to highlight.  I admit, it looks pretty damn fancy next to the bullet highlighting your work in college as Secretary of the Campus Recycling Committee 91-92. But yeah. No. Ok, they’re not all that bad. But you get the point. So recently a co-worker exploring new career options asked me to help him with an update and to refresh his resume—completely out of the blue. Like he could smell the interest on me.Maybe he could. Hope it smells sweet, like chocolate or porn.So he sent it to me and told me I could “to go to town” if I wanted. (my absolute favorite allowance…) And so I did. New format, added a color, updated his font, paired things down, moved things around, highlighted his strongest attributes. Told a story. Painted a picture. He had great experience, good bones. I just toned up the body, added a little fashion, offered some narrative—at most. I try to put people on paper. He loved it. Thank god. You never know. People sometimes want help, but don’t always like help. They like to learn, but hate to be taught. They want some refinement, but hate to be edited. I’m personally not any better, but I think that’s what sometimes makes me a decent educator/editor/presenter—because I sometimes come from that place of guarded request. But yeah, he loved it. Was really appreciative and liked the method to my madness, thankfully. So much so he bought me a bottle of his favorite hard Cider to thank me, a large bottle of Samuel Smith’s Organic Cider.  Thanking me with booze? Ok, that’ll work. I do this for free, normally. The opportunity is payment enough.  But a chance to try a new drink on the fly? Awesome.Crisp, slightly musky, sharply, tartly apple and blandly spiced, the organic cider was refreshing but was missing something. It has this nice golden apple flavor and was only sweet enough to taste delicious, without pushing for sugary. It almost had this homemade quality. I don’t know. I felt like the Woodchuck Amber Cider—admittedly my only other cider—was more lush, had more depth, was more… appletastic? Sure, we’ll go with that.Smith’s Organic Cider was tangy and pleasant, but slightly subtle and flat. Oh sure, it was bubbly but not rich. Appley, but tasted a few too many steps away from the tree, if that makes sense. I could blindly suggest the organic nature is what turned the volume down, but I’ve had enough experience with organic produce to know that’s not the answer. I think if you like apple, but a subtle, dryer, calming drink, this is the Cider for you. The alcohol flavor was almost non-existent.  It was diet RC Cola to Pepsi. Yeah, that’s the best way to explain it. Still perfectly cola, but not COLA. But I digress.Anyway, it was a great gift and a drink I may have never found on my own. So win-win, if I do say so myself. Plus, its becoming really helpful to be able to compare types of drinks to each other. I’m slacking on my cider intake, to say the least! So thanks to my buddy at work and I wish him the best of luck in his future career search with a new resume leading the way. I’m glad I could be part of his Adventure just as he contributed to mine. Cheers, Ben
Permalink Bellini MojitoSummer. 101 degrees. Dinner at The Heights in DC. 101 degrees. And yes, it’s worth repeating. As most of the country knows, it’s unbelievably hot these days. Scorching, disgusting, sweat-like-you’re-getting-paid-to-sweat hot. Baking cookies on your dashboard, even the breeze is 98 degrees and sprinkler water is 89 degrees hot. I think I even saw a 7lb poodle burst into flames. Maybe it was already on fire. Who knows.But seriously, it’s been 101+ degrees in the District for days. I mean, its been in the 98+ space for a few weeks. It’s gross. My white sugar does have a melting point, people. No one wants to see that.In fact, have you ever considered what a leading national tourist destination with a healthy homeless population smells like at 101 degrees? Wait. Hold on. Sorry. Don’t. Sorry. I’m sorry I even brought it up. My mistake. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Ignore me.…Anyway, the game plan every night is finding something cooling to do. Movie night, ice cream parties, quiet evenings at home in the A.C., naked dives into tubs filled with soothing frozen cubes of blue and red jello—you know it’s time to get out when you’re just sitting in purple goo. And on this occasion the plan to stay cool included a nice dinner out at one of our very favorite local restaurants, The Heights in the bustling, typically steamy Columbia Heights neighborhood.Home to a few former firstdrinks, Three Day Weekend and a Cool Cucumber Bloody Mary variation, and hands-down, the absolute best poached eggs for brunch, we were there to have a nice dinner, catch up with Chris & Natalie and hopefully drink something cold and refreshing.Scanning their summer July seasonal menu, I was looking for something with the fresh and delicious flavors of summer, but that refreshing straight from the firehose cool factor. And then Natalie found the potential cool summer drink holy grail: a full pitcher of Bellini Mojito.Part summer peach sparking wine, mixed with cooling mint and simple syrup, it just screamed “best suggestion” to beat the heat. Now, I’m not going to lie. In my head, I was hoping it would be peach wine mixed with white rum, simple syrup and muddled with mint and frozen peaches. I know I’m still the Virgin, but if you’re going to mastermix two classic summer drinks into one monster of a winner, go whole hog. But this was certainly close enough.Sweet, tangy, peachy, subtle with a nice sparkle from the clean, clear wine. Nicely refreshing, smooth but with a hint of alcohol, it was really lacking mint flavor but certainly had lots of mint leaves throughout. On one hand, it didn’t really have the peach punch of bellini, it didn’t have the sweet, minty spice of a mojito and while similar, it also didn’t even have the depth of a simple white sangria. It was tasty and thirst quenching in this heat, but it was more of a hyped peach wine water with some fleck of green garnish.So how do I put this? Its like when you ask for dessert and someone brings out a cheese plate. Sure, it’s dessertesque and it’s delicious, but it’s not what I asked for—or in this case what it was described as. So, one one hand I liked it and on the other it was kinda disappointing. Not that it matters, The Heights, you’d have to literally ruin 6 meals in a row for me to lower my love for you. No seriously, I’ve never had a bad meal. Or a bad service. So one mediocre drink isn’t sinking any ships. And it did make me forget about 101 degrees for a few sips. And for that, I thank you.Cheers, BenPS: It’s July! And next week we’re celebrating Christmas in July at our monthly Yappy Hour for Charity at the Blue Banana, supporting the Washington Humane Society. And this event even has an official beer sponsor, the aptly partnered Flying Dog Brewery!  First 20 people get a free Flying Dog brew, ALL dogs get free dog biscuits and come get your dog’s picture taken with Summer Santa (aka, my husband Joe in a summer Santa suit… no, I’m not kidding. He wishes I was…)
Permalink QUICKIE POST: Alligator PissAh, the night before the 4th of a July. A relatively quiet day in the District with early release from work and no plans for the evening. Joe and I decided to head to our local hangout, the Blue Banana for a mid-week-pre-holiday-wind-down.I wasn’t even sure if I was going to drink. I knew we were going to get double mozz sticks and waffle fries, sure. But I didn’t know if I was in the mood for a drink that I’d need to write about later.  Blogpeopleproblems.And then I started playing around with one of my favorite iPhone apps, Mixology. A fun little app that showcases thousands of cocktails, shots and alcoholic drinks. All the popular ones are there—ingredients and all—including a slew of historic, oddball and obscure suggestions and recipes. Jamie at the Blue Banana was interested in making me something different, so I flipped around Mixology until I stumbled one I’d never hear of: Alligator Piss.I wish I could accurately describe the what-the-fuck, incredulous looks Joe and Jamie gave me. “Alligator Piss? Piss?! Really? … ok, what’s in it.”Amaretto, Midori melon liqueur, peach Schnapps, Southern Comfort, Sour Mix and a few splashes of sprite, shaken and poured into a highball. It literally looked like pale green swamp piss. It smelled nicely fruity, however.Sugary sweet, floral yet fruity, it was a really, really tasty drink. The melon and peach favors made it slightly tropical, but also blended to create a slightly earthy, grassy flavor. The sour mix gave it touch of tartness and the 4 alcohols provided a nice one-two punch.Have you ever had the rare green pez flavor? Its like a apple/tropical flavor. It’s hard to find, but if my memory serves, this is pretty close to what Alligator Piss tastes like. If that’s even helpful. Maybe not. But it was really good. Surprisingly good. Even Joe and Jamie were surprised and delighted. I suggested he put it on the drink menu, tweak-it and re-name it DC Swamp Water or Georgia Ave. Piss. We’ll see if that happens. I’m not sure if “Come drink the Georgia Ave. Piss at the Blue Banana” would be the right draw… hm. We might have to consider the marketing…Cheers, Ben PS: Happy 4th of July!! I’m going to be having at least one firstdrink today… what yet, who knows! Until then, see you in a few, stay cool and make sure to get in as much bbq as personally possible before your sweat starts to smell like sauce. At least that’s how I know I’m tipping the scales.
Permalink 7 months into this goofball project and I’ll occasionally get recognized in public around DC. More often however, no one has any clue who I am or what I’m doing. And then there are the even more rare occurrences like this one. I live for these moments. He was so nice and so chill. And pretty drunk and very confused. I just let him walk away. For all I know he wanted to give me my own show on the Travel Network. And now I’ll never know…
Permalink French 8407Date night. No, not the strangely disappointing movie (Steve Carell and Tina Fey. Steve & Tina. What happened? Seriously. No, seriously. It should have been comedy genius. …seriously, anyway.)   Well, it was more like Date Afternoon, and with our good friends—and frequenters of the Adventures blog—Courtney & Jordan, we were taking in a movie, a nice dinner and some time hanging out with good friends. The movie: Pixar’s Brave. The dinner: Silver Spring’s 8407 Kitchen Bar. Brave was fantastic. Not epic. Typically, Pixar is epic. Wall-e, The Incredibles, oh god, Up! Wait, the Toy Story trilogy… Finding Nemo?! Epics. All epics. It was Cars fantastic. A Bug’s Life fantastic. But not Monsters, Inc. epic. Great story, funny, sweet, smart, enthralling. Fantastic, but I just want to make it clear in the line-up. But let’s talk epic on another front, shall we? Let’s talk 8407 Kitchen Bar. Courtney & Jordan love this place. They’ve mentioned a few times how much they enjoy eating there, the cocktails, the deviled eggs. Oh, lord, those deviled eggs.Right off the bat, ALL of their starting plates were amazing. Calamari, homemade sausages & sauerkraut, the-most-heavenly-deviled-eggs-ever, steamed mussels and a second order of the-most-heavenly-deviled-eggs-ever. Oh! And they have this amazing housemade beef jerky on the menu for $1 a strip. Really? Yes. Really.You know how some places make you frustrated that you can only order one entree? Even when you know you can sample off other’s plates? No? Only me? Shut-up, I’m not addicted to food. I’m not. I’m not. [I am.]Back-off. So we each order our meal and every one was rich, savory and delicious. Joe’s especially: a rich seafood red curry stew over jasmine rice. My steak was perfect, the duck fat fried french fries, inspired. But after tasting his stew, I wanted to distract him and switch meals. And then distract him again and switch back. Essentially eating both meals. And no, it doesn’t mean I don’t love him. Again, back-off.Oh lord, have I even mentioned the cocktails yet? Crap. Sometimes—when food is involved—I forget why I’m writing this little blog. Sorry, you’ll have to forgive me.  But did I mention the deviled eggs had crispy pastrami bacon on top? No? Oh. It was hard to make a decision from their cocktail list. Most of it is inspired, several quirky and all of them look worthy of a virgin’s taste. Wait. That sounds dirty. …Eh.After some table debate, I settled on one of their personal modern classics, a French 8407. Made with Hangar One vodka, St. Germaine Elderflower liquor, Yuzu juice—a distinct Japanese citrus fruit, lemon bitters, and Gruet Sparkling Wine.It was strong and tasty, and crazy tangy. Made with 3 different alcohols it started nicely sweet, but ended slightly bitter. The elderflower is not one of my favorite flavors, with it’s earthy, grassy, floral musk. However, it blended nicely with the lemon and yuzu citrus flavors. The alcohol sting was striking, the bubbles keeping the flavors of the drink lingering on my tongue in tiny little bursts. It tasted fancy and looked fancy, thusly, making me feel fancy. In a weird way, the French 8407 was similar to the Tom Collins I had with Courtney & Jordan back in the beginning, but fresher, tangier, tastier.  Sorry, Tom, you lose again. Oh man, I’m so glad I’m not you, Tom. Whoo-boy. Poor Tom.Oh, Date Afternoon. So fun. Courtney and Jordan keep showing us sides of the eastern region to fall in love with. From Baltimore to Richmond and in nearby Silver Spring.  We really need to reciprocate in some creative way. I’m just afraid that Cleveland isn’t enough. Good enough, that is. Or enough? Just enough. No reason to be mean. I still love you Cleveland. Enough it is.So pack your bags Courtney and Jordan, we’ll be making plans soon to be NE Ohio bound! Well, don’t pack your bags yet.  Soon is just a way of saying “sometime soon.” or “sometime”.We’re all young. We have time. Cleveland isn’t going anywhere. There is still time to kick back, relax and order the-most-heavenly-deviled-eggs-ever from 8407 while we wait. Seriously, those eggs. I’m not kidding. Let’s make plans to do that first. Like right away, first. Cleveland can seriously wait. Cheers, Ben
Permalink I’ve been bad with getting my “True Stories” out on the blog. And I have several great ones over the past few months. Here is a very funny one between me and a local bartender. I don’t “fist bump” as a habit—I prefer a high-five or handshake—but when he reached out for a fist bump, I had to bump back. Cheers, Ben
Permalink Riesling Kabinet 2009Work trips. Travel, new city, hotel room, exciting new people. All these things always sound so awesome until you’re there and for the most part it’s just a work trip. Travel is crazy rushed, your chance to really see the city is condensed, the hotel room never sparkles the same after the first day and by day three you’re a bit over all the scores of new exciting people.Or maybe it’s just me. Thankfully I have a new job and a new boss that knows the occasional perils of travel and makes it a point to try and get into the city for a quality meal and a little experience. We were in hot & windy Chicago for few days into a national conference, and by day two she and I decided to head a bit into the downtown to find a place to eat that wasn’t a Dick’s-Last-Amazon-Hard-Rock-Meat-On-A-Sword tourist trap nor a ailing high school caliber conference center cafeteria. But I digress.Even though it was a Monday, it was far harder to find something later in the evening that wasn’t a chain or overwhelmingly busy with a 2 hour wait. And then we found it. Bin 36, a wine bar restaurant near the close north end. A larger place, swimming in wine, a bit light on the patrons, but the wait staff was knowledgeable and polite and the Proprietor was on hand to answer all sorts of questions about the wine and small plates menu.Oh, and bonus, they had one hell of a cheese plate menu. Thankfully, while my boss is vegetarian, we’re similar and like to order and try a diversity of fun and inventive foods. Spreads, fries, pickled vegi plates, asparagus & egg salad, lemon scallops, curried lamb ribs and a grilled cauliflower steak were just some of the highlights. And then there was the wine. An area where I still feel like a massive virgin. I’m pretty fine with most reds and hadn’t found a white I loved yet. But Bin 36 was a wine bar so I wanted to take advantage. So I mentioned to the waitress, “I’d like to try a white that’s crisp, delicious and sweet but not moscato sweet.”The waitress brought over a sample of Riesling Kabinet 2009 from Germany. Described as like drinking a burst of fresh green apple, they were spot on. I loved it. LOVED it. Finally, a white wine that I could see myself drinking. The Riesling Kabinet wasn’t too sugary, but it was nicely sweet, kinda tart, fresh, bright and delicious. The green apple description was perfect with it’s sweet, tart crisp finish. And with food it was even nicer, letting the alcohol ring through a bit to deepen the apple flavor and highlight each tangy sip.For the first time, I can kinda see what those suburban housewives are putting in their water bottles when they go jogging. I get it now.I really wanted to get a bottle, but  I wasn’t interested in dealing with TSA any more than necessary. But I got all the details so I can order some of this wine for drinking gifts and jogging all on my own here in DC. So I’ll need to find someone that sells 2009 Riesling Kabinet, Allendorf, Rheingau, Germany, but it will be worth it because I finally found a white I love! Ok, look, in life that might seem like a very little accomplishment, but for an alcohol virgin, it’s no small feat apparently. 6 months in a dozens of wines later. I take my accomplishments where I can get them.Oh, and Chicago was fun. As the conference was solid. And my boss is pretty cool. But seriously, that wine? It was worth the trip alone. I only wish I was kidding. What is happening to me?Cheers, BenPS: Why yes, I am way behind in my blogging. How kind of you to notice. I’m still two posts behind and will be getting to them soon. Forgive me, I’m a bit creatively bankrupt these days and work has my brain and my hand pretty busy. But no worries, I’m not losing steam, I’m just re-adjusting. Or something like that.
Permalink First Jungle Juice (and shot of Jameson)Joe and I love making new friends. We get all dorky about it, honestly. Especially coupled friends. We start thinking about joint vacations, dinners out and over and other adorable things couples can do for date nights and events. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but yeah, we’re really funny about this. We love our individual and single friends too—don’t fret folks—but since we really, lovingly, sometimes grossly love doing everything together, having couple friends is nice.One area we’re kinda lacking—as stereotypical as it sounds—are other gay male couple friends. Joe will argue that it’s because I “don’t like” gay people. And… well… um… ok, look. I came out at age 14. Almost all of my friends and family knew pretty quickly and I’m not quite sure if this will make sense, but here we go…I’ve never really felt “embraced” by the gay male community. I think, if I’m being really honest, its because I came out really early in the early 90’s. It wasn’t “cool” to be gay. Some would argue it’s not cool now. Gay teen suicide is on the rise, gay bashing is as prevalent as ever and while we’re making huge strides in equality and marriage, that has it’s own special backlash.Hopefully time will heal all wounds—maybe not scars—but, we’ll see. I have grand hope.Anyway.My coming out story was very, usually VERY unlike other gay teens and young adults I would meet. My family was really supportive. My friends just as supportive. I didn’t have any terrible or evenly vaguely uncomfortable stories of backlash, bullying or taunting. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: I am the Unicorn.So when I would meet other gay males—especially in college—it was commonplace to share mutual strife, coming out difficulties, stories of hope, of overcoming diversity. I was the skinny girl in a room full of Weight Watcher clients asking if I could join the meeting. Or so it felt. I can remember saying some years later that my “most difficult, worst” coming out story was to other gay men. They strangely ostracized me because they couldn’t relate, I couldn’t share in the common thread of pain. So it was rare to forge any real gay friendships. I’m not an idiot—I’m not even really complaining—I totally get it. But over time it created this weird wedge in my social life. I just had so few gay male friends. I wasn’t part of a Pride group, I didn’t frequent bars or events. And you get to your mid 30’s and it’s just becomes that thing. Like not drinking, perhaps. And before you know it here I am with very few gay male friends and virtually no gay male couple friends. For Joe, this has been an issue. Nothing earth-shattering, but something that he wanted. For him it’s more of a community thing. He’s had lots of gay friends. And having a solid gay couple friend is something he’s always mentioned he wished we had.And—while still early yet—I think it’s finally happening. While at one of the last standard Thursday Yappy Hours, I met Scotty and Patrick. A few years older than myself, they were neighborhood locals in tow with one of their adorable chocolate labs, Hurley. We found out we had a couple of mutual friends in Jamie owner of the Blue Banana and Adam, one of the main bartenders.They were fun, funny, kind and genuinely great guys. Scotty, originally from Scotland has been in the area for a little over a dozen years and Patrick is a DC local, born and raised. And we got along wonderfully, easy breezy. And a few days later they invited us to their home for a weekly happy hour they throw each week with neighborhood friends.And so after my work happy hour where I had my firstdrink of Cuba Libre, Joe swung by to pick me up and then we headed quickly to our place to change out of work clothes, grab a bottle of wine and head over the Scotty and Pat’s. Their home was stunning. Their friends were eclectic, fun, engaging and a nice mix of gay, straight, male, female, youthful, silver, black, white and brown. It was heavenly. It was so very DC in all the right ways. And the firstdrink they offered me? Scotty’s “famous” Jungle Juice. Pulled straight from the freezer, it was a secret mix of juices, tonic and vodka and tasted like the best adult snowcone I’d ever had. No, it’s none of your business how many I had, thank you very much. And yes I was able to walk home just fine. Yes, maybe I had a slight headache the next day, but no my work was unaffected. Anyway.Frosty, icy cold, sweet, fruity—but not “fruit punch” fruity—tangy and smooth. The Jungle Juice was de.lic.ous. They had a tiny, but ample bar, several snacks and conversation to talk the night away. So much so, before we knew it, it was half past 11pm before we realized how late it was getting on a Wednesday, said our goodbyes and left.But we had a great time. Adore Scotty and Patrick, their friends and their budding new friendship. We’ve already make plans to see them again soon, and tentative plans to have them over for dinner to return the favor of the happy hour. We’re even—don’t go into shock—planning on trying to catch a musical or show with them sometime this summer. Trite, perhaps. Fun, absolutely. Ok, so I’m not going to stupidly overstate this: I’m enjoying our new gay couple friends. Certainly not just because they’re gay. But because they’re wonderful,funny and kind. Because I’m realizing that unlike the attention I’m bringing to my new world of drinking, my vanilla-laced coming out story is passe at this stage in life. All that matters now is good friends, good family, good food and—I finally get this!—good wine.In fact, shortly before we left Patrick poured us all a shot of Jameson whiskey to celebrate to new friendships. Wow, that packed a punch on it’s own. The sweetest of burns, a bit brassy. I liked it in the 2 seconds it took to down it, but lord knows I wasn’t going back for another taste for the blog. I love my liver too much.So while it’s very cool to find friendship and comfort in new friends—gay or otherwise—I have to remember that friendships are developed, not designed. Everything in the past is just faded history, at best. And everything yet to come is a bright new history to make. Making new friends at all, is the real magic.Oh wow, that sounded the gayest of all. Sorry.You know, I’m so smart sometimes I’m stupid. I know, I know. At least I’m hopefully entertaining to read. Cheers, BenPS: Next up, June’s Charity Yappy Hour. Spoiler: new firstdrink, new charity, new beer vendor and my first ever invitation to visit a local brewery as a VIP. Oh yes, this shit is getting legit my friends and fans. Brace for impact.
Permalink Cuba Libre There are still lots of moments on the Adventure that sometimes give me pause. One of them is drinking at work events. It was always one of the more common places where people would “push” me a little even when I politely declined.“Oh, it’s ok to have a drink, we’re all having one, it’s even been budgeted for! Drink! Enjoy! Come on, we’re all drinking. At least have one.”Yeah, well, um…So anyway, as often is the case with co-workers, liquor seems to loosen the lips and awaken the mind of wanting to “know more” about each other. Wait. “know more” is not a sexy euphemism. I’m not sure why it’s in quotes. I think I’m trying to suggest that they’re a little tipsy and happy to ask more invasive questions, aka: “know more” but they’re not as interested as they are nosey.“So you DON’T drink? At all? Ever? NEVER? Are you kidding me?  Jim, hey Jim, come on over here, Ben says he’s never drank before! Can you believe that?”Yeah, exactly. And so I would explain my never-having-drank-before-story. Blah blah blah. blah blah blah blah blah.But see, now it’s all changed. One might argue, gotten worse, perhaps. But changed all the same.Now everyone wants to know what I’m drinking. What I think of the drink. If they’ll be in the blog. In a funny way, they become kinda self-conscious. It’s amusing. “Blah blah blah, workplace chatter blah. Wait. You’re not going to put this in your drinking blog are you?  No seriously, are you?”“I’ll put in ‘blah blah blah’… don’t worry.”So this wasn’t the first work-related happy hour I’ve attended, but it is the first where much of my co-workers are now very aware of the blog—and some reading it regularly. Ok, the more well known this project becomes—and I’m not over-stating this fact, it’s weird having the majority of people you know highly aware you’re writing about your first time drinking—the often more awkward everything becomes. Every word, every story, every little dance move and photo—let alone whatever I’m drinking—becomes a cautionary question. An embarrassed glance. Slight tension wrapped in apprehension. “No, seriously. Will this make his blog?”*sigh*I have to admit, I have put some juicy things into my blog that some people would have preferred I didn’t. I’m—at most—willing to change names. Never dates. Never a story. Never a detail. But a name? Sure. I’ll protect those I love and/or pay me. I know, I’m a gent.Sadly, at this particular happy hour, I didn’t have any juicy items to exchange for a few “blahs”.  In fact, I was the one dancing in the cage at the Dirty Martini in the Dupont neighborhood. But that’s nothing new. We were there post departmental retreat—where I had successfully raised my own bar by delivering a pretty solid personality/leadership activity for everyone—and enjoying a mountain of food and drink.We were upstairs at the rooftop Tiki Bar, listening to salsa music, so I opted for my firstdrink of Cuba Libre. Known as “the worlds second most popular drink”, the Cuba Libre is a Spanish born drink in consideration of the US. A highball variation—rum and cola—made with cola, white rum and lime juice, the Cuba Libre is a damn nice drink. Slightly tropical, warmth from the rum, sweet from the cola and tart from the fresh lime this drink has a little of everything.It starts cold, finishes warm. Hits most of your senses nicely and is a great drink on a hot day with its caramel notes, a citrus cut to your taste buds while offering a nice, slight alcohol burn. Everything plays nicely together but offers it’s own significance in the line-up. I greatly enjoyed it. Ask anyone. They asked me. Over and over. And over. And over. And they questioned if how many times I was asked was going to make the blog. You can’t make this stuff up. Well you can. But know that if I was out to make stories up for the blog, I’d add vampires or zombies. They’re so hot right now, I can only assume they’d raise my blog’s profile, garnering more readers. The Adventures of a 35yo Alcohol Virgin Zombie Killer.  Has a decent ring, I suppose.But nah. I’ll just keep keeping it real. Blah blah blah’s and all. I promise. No really, just ask. Cheers, BenPS: Still at the conference in Chicago… and I’m still playing catch-up. Forgive me firstdrink readers. Forgive me.
Permalink Samuel Adams Summer AleOur buddy David was in the DC area for a work conference and wanted to try and grab a meal or drink with us. His schedule was pretty busy so we kept ourselves open and as luck would have it, he was able to grab an evening drink early in the week.We were not sure if he wanted us to meet near him or if he wanted to come near us so the first net we cast was asking if he wanted to meet closer to us, “We could hit a bar near us if you wanted.”“As long as it’s the Blue Banana, for sure, I want to get in on another firstdrink.”Yes, exactly. It’s moments like these that make me pause and crack me up.  If you read often, clearly the Blue Banana is my “home base”, my drinking Adventures “bat cave”, if you will. So when someone references it directly when wanting to drink with me, it cracks me up a little.  Let alone when they use the term “firstdrink”…my goofy little Adventure’s world is catching on here and there. So basically, I’m famous. You knew it was coming. I’ll be signing autographs at an empty Borders near you soon.  Just wait for it.Anyway, I need to gain composure. Ok, so David was up for another drink. You might remember he and his wife Laura joined Joe and I for one during the Cherry Blossom Fest a bit back when I had my first Vanilla Cherry Coke cocktail. So there we were at the Blue Banana on a Tuesday, during super amateur comedy hour. The place was pretty packed, but luckily the back patio was pretty open and the night was fantastic. As my life is getting more interesting, I had oddly enough had most of the beers that were on the 12 taps. All but two, so I opted for the Sam Adams Summer Ale. One of their seasonal beers.  David and Joe got their beers and we headed out on the patio. Ok. Look. I’m sorry Samuel Adams. I swear. When I tried your Cherry Wheat a while back, I was kinda honest—but perhaps hysterically unkind—relating it to what it’s like to visit a petting zoo (fun at first, terrible half way through). And I stand by it, but you were so great and responded on Facebook, asking that I try another and give you another shot.And I did. And I will continue to, I’m sure as I continue on the Adventure. But. Oh my god, I really, really didn’t like it. I tried. Your description online make it sound so wonderful. Mentions of lemon peel, African pepper, mangoes and peaches. Lies? I just tasted hops, bitter fruit, hops and my sadness.It was yeasty like rye bread, sour, tangy, crazy hoppy. Hoppy. And not like IPA hop, like something else, more forced. And again, unlike lots of IPAs it didn’t have the wonderful citrus notes I’ve come to expect. The finish was the best part, and I don’t mean that as a joke. The finish was bready and nice. But I only got about 1/4 through my beer and I was done.Thankfully, the company was great. Hanging with David is always fun and we learned all about their upcoming travels and a few upcoming highlights to their annual Oktoberfest in NC this fall.  If David plays his cards right, he’ll be on the Adventure a nice handful of times. Cuz I’m famous!!But seriously, Sam Adams. Can I call you Sam? Wonderful, thanks. Sam, I’m trying. You’re trying. And sometime in the middle we’ll meet. Maybe in your Porch Rocker, maybe your Chocolate Bock or maybe even the Vixen. Time will tell.Much love all the same. For now. Cheers, BenPS: I’m still far behind in my posts… I have a work happy hour drink coming up, followed by a delightful pairing of drinks at the house of Scotty & Patrick, two of our newest friends and then—drumroll please—a charity Yappy Hour drink from this past Thursday. I’m getting there… I’m getting there…
Permalink Three Day WeekendOur weekend visit with Angie was going really well. She was interested in seeing everything DC and we wanted to get in as much as possible. Well, that was before the onslaught of Girl Scouts. Let me just say, I have nothing against the Girl Scouts, I swear. But if you’re coming to the Nation’s Capitol to celebrate 100 years, BRING SOME COOKIES!Seriously? a quarter of a million giggling Girl Scouts everywhere the eye can see—and people try to walk—and no Thin Mints, no Samosas? Seriously? Not even those horrible lady-head-short-bread ones? I don’t want to imply that perhaps, you hate your country. But this lack of planning I think says it for me. Anyway, so after avoiding a mental game of Girl Scout wack-a-mole on the National Mall for a morning run, followed by a quick salad run for lunch, a giant walk around town including hitting the Smithsonian National Zoo and then ending the night with a fancy dinner at Zaytinya we took in a long night walk to see all the Monuments. It was a nice, full, DC kinda day. And if you remember back to my very 2nd post, my firstdrink of mimosa, we had to kick off the next day with the lifestyle known as Brunch in DC. So it was off to The Heights, one of our very favorite neighborhood restaurants for any meal, but man can they poach an egg for Brunch. It was also the first place I had a Bloody Mary variation. Great place, amazing food, solid service. After Brunch we were heading to the DC Pride festival, the National Botanical Gardens, Eastern Market and then an early dinner at Sticky Rice (where I had my firstdrink of Sake, I might add). So it was going to be a full-ass day.I needed a drink.And I knew exactly what I was going to have: the Height’s Three Day Weekend. This is one of Joe’s favorite local Brunch drinks and now it’s one of mine. A frozen cocktail, the Three Day Weekend is frosty, sweet, slightly creamy and is basically a mango mojito.  Made with fresh mango juice, mango rum, lime and mint, this is one fantastic drink. Its sadly small, but it packs a tiny little coordinating punch. The rum is perfect, warming and caramely. The mint and mango go hand in hand and it’s frosty delivery is a really nice counterpoint to my Brunch Burger—burger, poached egg, bacon, potato pancake and hollandaise. Damn damn damn. That drink and that burger should be illegal. Or legal? Free?  Yeah, free. Angie loved her meal, and Joe and I were happy as usual at the food the atmosphere and being able to show The Heights off to loved ones and friends. And I was very happy to finally try that drink. Very happy indeed. It was going to be a long, hot day in the District taking in the sights and it was the perfect, frosty item to kick it off right. Cheers to our weekend with Angie! Cheers to you!Ben
Permalink HC CoolerI could eat BBQ every day. Literally. And yes, maybe I say that about lots of different foods—Chinese, Indian, pizza, burgers Chick-Fil-a, seafood and rice pudding to name a few—but that’s not the point. For the sake of this story, it’s BBQ all the way.BBQ!!!So, since I can’t eat it everyday, mostly because I need to fit in my clothes, I look for good excuses to go get BBQ when it’s more of an “occasion”. One of those good excuses is when friends are in town. As you may recall, our friend Angie was in town from Ohio for the weekend. We started off with some watered-down-sangria in the park. But for dinner, we were getting some stellar BBQ at Hill Country off Chinatown. We love this place. Its slightly cafeteria style, but the meat is house-smoked, hand carved and the multitude of southern sides are almost too amazing when you have to narrow it down, choosing 1-2 so you don’t overeating.We warned Angie that while delicious, her fingers will smell like smoke for at least 3 days after. A good smell of smoke, but they’re that good at smoking meats that your own fingers will smell like tasty sausages. In my case they already look like them, so it can often cause some early morning confusion. Thank god for pain reflex.And to be honest, I wasn’t even going to have a drink with dinner, but these days I at least scan the drink menu to make sure I’m not missing anything I just have to try for the blog. …And there it was.An HC Cooler… a little drink with vodka, Tang and a touch of fresh orange. Wait, Tang? Are you kidding me? Yes, apparently Tang. The delicious vaguely orange-like breakfast drink. Made famous by Astronauts and then more famous as sexual slang (feel free to look it up…) Tang clearly caught my eye.They jokingly called it a “Texas take on a classic screwdriver.” I don’t know how Texans would care for that—nor do I really care—but I was highly amused. And so another firstdrink it was! Light, a moderate alcohol kick and nicely Tang’ish. The real orange juice helped make the Tang a little more robust against the majority liquid of vodka. Again, I don’t terribly care for vodka, but when it’s paired with something like Tang, it’s far more fun than when left to it’s own devices. Oh, and the BBQ. Angie, Joe and I ate until we just about popped, smokey, bloated, happy, asking if Hill Country—who has some of the nicest, sweetest staff—had a carry out to the curbside option for patrons as well as takeout. No, apparently they do not. Oh, and I’m excited to mention that for the very first time I had dessert at Hill Country! I mention this accomplishment because normally I’m so full off collard greens, pork ribs, lean brisket, corn pudding and hot german potato salad that there is just no room available for ball jar banana pudding, lemon icebox pie, Texas sheet cake or pb&j cupcakes. I know… my Dad is hanging his head in shame for me admitting this. Sorry Dad. I’m a Bisbee, I should be built for dessert. But this place is so good, I fail and fail happy. But this time, I saw they had a lemon/lime tart and so I had to make it happen. And it was amazing. So I popped a button on my shirt. I’ll buy a new one. And maybe I’ll swing by Target for that shirt. And while there I’ll pick up a container of sweet, sweet Tang. Who knew.Cheers, Ben