I held the glass up to my eye. The liquid inside was a rather disturbing amber color, and a large bubble slowly rose to the surface and popped with a disquieting “gloop.”
I pulled my eyes back up to the girl across from me. “And you’re sure about this?”
“Of course I am!” she insisted. “I followed the recipe exactly. Now stop being a baby and tell me if it tastes all right!”
Oh, the things I do for love. Closing my eyes and trying not to wince, I lifted the small glass to my lips and tossed back the shot.
As the liquid slid down my throat, I successfully resisted the urge to vomit – but it was a close call. “Ugh!” I managed to get out after sucking in a few deep breaths. “That was terrible! How did you make that stuff slimy and oily at the same time?”
Across the bar, my bartender friend looked concerned. “Oh no, I must have gotten something wrong in the recipe!” she exclaimed. “Maybe the maple syrup didn’t mix all the way? I thought that I shook it up well…”
Maple syrup?? “Maple syrup??” I repeated. “Where in a tequila sunrise are you supposed to add maple syrup? That’s not part of the recipe!”
“Well, I couldn’t find the grenadine, so I figured that maybe syrup would kind of work the same… I put in a bit of maraschino cherry juice to balance it out too!”
I shook my head as I reached for the glass of water. “I’m telling you right now that it is *not* an acceptable substitute,” I announced. I took a long drink of water, trying to flush out the corners of my mouth and wash my throat clean.
Across the bar from me, my friend reached for the bottles. “Oh well, let’s move on,” she said. “Okay, next up is a salty dog. Do you think they mean kosher salt, or does table salt work?”
I grimaced privately to myself. This was not going to be a fun night of drinking.