9:25 pm, Friday night…50km/hr…one scooty and one drunken girl.
All she was thinking about, the whole drive back home
was if she’ll be booked for drunken driving.She was a novice in this game of booze., As the wind whipped her hair, her eyes watered in the pace she was driving and everything shimmered romantic in the night. Even the most annoying "Nandanam" signal suddenly seemed liked a haven for Hawaiians. The red traffic light somehow magically looked green, as she jumped the signal to numerous curses from the on coming traffic with a sly smile on her face. She cared less, as she was enjoying every moment of her subconscious state of driving. And she loved it…
It all started with a goblet,.It was the most beautiful goblet she had ever seen, bent, shaped and slender in the right places . The stem of the globlet perfectly fit between her fingers resting on her palm as if its sole purpose of being was being solved.However what added more glamour was the thing within.Deep brown, clear unsedimented, bubbly liquid. It shone like the very elixir of life she always wanted to taste.And excitement gripped her , as she was just moments away from having her dream fulfilled.
She gently brought the goblet and dipped slightly towards her lips.The cold rim of the glass was the first she felt, and then it flowed, like a brook of a river which always knew where its destination was gonna be. She immediately closed her eyes to separate her self to all distractions around her and to unidirection her mind to the liquid stimulating her taste buds and then it touched her throat.She felt something like a burning sensation in the throat. Twenty three years of grooming watching Tamil cinema, the take away was “Your throat burns when u booze”. And then it happened……
Me: “EEewwwwwwwwwwwwwww………and I puked into the cup…Damn…its “narasus kappi dicauction”……………….”
Me: ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?.....(wat was I thinking)
After few moments of struggling and retching to digest the fact that, this is how “Irish coffee with a tinge of whiskey” tastes like…..I slammed the damn glass cup (its no goblet) on the table in disgust
NOTE::The above post is an extremely exaggerated version of what should have been a “cup of coffee at CCD”.The first paragraph is what I imagined myself to be after having “Irish coffee” which supposedly has a tinge of whiskey(apparently only in the A la carte).The last para is what actually happened.
For the benefit of intelligent civilization like me, here’s a pictorial representation of what “Irish Coffee” actually is………and its composition.