Ever have one of those relationships where you know damn well that you're just wasting time until the right thing comes along? That's exactly how I feel about my relationship with this vodka cran right here. When the right cocktail shows up, I am losing this vodka cran's number so fast it ain't even funny. And it should be funny because I'm about half in the proverbial bag.
Thing is I knew this vodka cran wasn't up to my standards the minute it showed up. It smelled like polio vaccine. And it tasted like Elmer's paste, but only if Elmer's paste was one of those angry chemicals--you know like furniture stripper--and was flavored with raspberry. (I know, right?) But what was I to do? There's only so many government checks I can cash at this bar. And it was Crantastic Vodka Cran Thursday where all vodka crans are, like, six bucks off.
Can you feel your lips? I can't. Wow.
Look, it's just a natural fact that I was destined for bigger things, and this vodka cran just has to understand that. When the time comes, I'll just be like - "Look, you knew this was going to happen. It's me we're talking about here. I'm classy. I've got McAllan's 25 written all over me in a drunken scrawl. Besides, when I ordered the Texas size nachos it shoulda tipped you off that I was way outta your league."
