#185 – Hootch

Over the summer, Johanna, Emily and I went to First Fridays at the MCA.  When we realized that we were in serious danger of catching an airborne STD from the horny vultures who make this a regular event, we bolted for some stiffies down the street.  We went to Ralph Lauren Restaurant, which is where things got pretty crazy.  The place has a lodge-y, masculine feel and the cocktail list matches this vibe.  We decided that we’d all order commonly known cocktails, even though we had no idea what the ingredients for each entailed.  Emily got a Tom Collins, Jo ordered a Sidecar and:

I ordered a Rob Roy.

Tom Collins, Rob Roy, Sidecar. Beating of chests and scratching of crotches occurs in a separate, private photo album.

The idea sounded so adventurous.  We were such crazy city gals, out on the town looking to get a cheap buzz.  Turns out, two of the three drinks were undrinkable due to alcohol content and/or they immediately sprouted hairs on our chests.  Much like the time I wanted to wrestle a bear at the I-X Center, this idea was more romantic a thought than an action.

Fun factor: 8


One Comment Add yours

  1. Frank says:

    You told me you beat that bear’s ass! Just another item from that long list of teenage fibs.
    Remember: “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.”

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