The first time I tried whiskey, I was 21-years-old…no, seriously…I was actually 21.
That’s when the affair began.
It was one of those things I always thought I would like because people told me that I “seemed like a whiskey drinker.” Whatever that means.
It was at party. We were doing shots. I walked into the kitchen and was handed a shot glass of a rough-smelling brown liquid. It was cold.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Just drink it.” Everyone answered.
So, on the count of three, we all put the glasses to our mouths, tilted back our heads, and swallowed the mysterious amber liquid.
As it went down, I could feel the warmth of the liquor transferring to my entire body. My fingers and toes tingled. My head felt light and carefree. My body was delightfully warm, as if I had just stepped outside of the air conditioning on a sunny spring day. It was intoxicating…literally.
I had to have more.
And, ever since then, I’ve been a whiskey drinker. Just as predicted.
But, it doesn’t stop me from getting odd looks from people in bars when I step up to order a Jameson and Ginger for the nights when I want to have a good time; or a whiskey on the rocks for the nights when I just want to chill; or a scotch on the rocks with a twist for the nights when I’m feeling fancy.
One night, a guy walked up to me at a bar and asked what I was drinking. Personally, I think that when and if a man does this, he’s making a snap judgment about you based on your drink order. I have absolutely no evidence to prove this, but it is my natural inclination to assume that people are judging other people based on their behavior. I wonder where I get this from…that’s a story for a different day.
I digress.
So, guy comes up to me at the bar and asks what I’m drinking. I tell him that I’m drinking a Jameson and Ginger. He looks at me, impressed.
“Huh,” he said. “I’ve never met a girl who drinks those.”
“Well, you clearly have been hanging out with the wrong girls,” I said teasingly.
He proceeded to buy me a drink and interrogate me about my whiskey drinking. He asked if I knew that whiskey was “for boys.” I told him that I didn’t think alcohol preferred genders. He asked if an old boyfriend had gotten me into it. I told him no. The questions went on and on until I finished my free drink and politely recused myself to the restroom and then out of the bar.
In truth, I love whiskey for its taste and the feeling it gives me as it slides down my throat. The warmth and the tingling extremities cannot be matched by any other alcohol outside of the whiskey family. I love whiskey because it’s good – plain and simple. In fact, being a “whiskey drinker” has become such a facet of my personality that my friends have taken it upon themselves to get me whiskey-themed gifts for Christmas and birthdays. Johnnie Walker filled chocolates anyone? I’ve got three boxes.
But what I learned that night is that whiskey is a drink that is traditionally “for the boys.” In my opinion, that sort of gender stereotyping is best left for the past. We live in 2017, people; guys can drink cosmos and girls can shoot whiskey because #feminism.
Alyssa Explains It All 