Alcohol poisoning

The BBQ Pit
1

Today is my fiancee’s birthday. She just turned 21, and as such, tonight was a celebration with much drinking and fanfare. Now, I’m not going to lie. Whe she wanted a drink, I’d never hesitated to make one for her, as she’d been drinking longer than I have. I’ve got a bar in the den of my house, stocked with pretty much anything you’d really want. All the bottles are in the open, except for the wines and a few of the liquors which are kept in the cooler I built into it. Some were ‘hers,’ some were ‘mine.’ She perfers fruity drinks and wines over hard liquor, I perfer liquor over such travisties as Absolut Citron. To each his own, right?

Well, after supper we came back to my place as I wanted to give her something I’d picked up in Germany while on TDY. It was a bottle of Antinori Estates Tignanello 1994. It ended up being something like 240 euros (roughly 280-300 USD, if I remember correctly.) Since it was a celebration, I’d opted for a glass of Jim Beam’s Distiller’s Masterpiece 20 Year Old Port Finish Bourbon (a gift from my father on my 21st. I guess you’d say giving fine booze for your 21st is a tradition in my family.)

She gets her glass and I get mine. We toast to another year of good health and love and our future, and drink. As soon as the glass touched my lips, I knew something was…amiss. My burbon smelled funny. Not wanting to let this go, I drank it anyway and realized that this warm, rich, oaky burbon suddenly tasted like rock-candy effused with Kool-Aid. As she finished her glass, I looked at the bottle, and its contents wern’t such a deep copper color as it was supposed to be. It was purplish-brown. She must have caught me looking because she asked “Like it?”

“Caught me off guard. What did you add?” I replied, trying not to grimace as I poured another one for both of us.

“About a dozen grape Jolly ranchers. It was too strong for me, so I thought I’d liven up the flavor.” She smiled with this big grin and I knew she honestly thought that this twenty-two year old bottle of burbon was now ‘better.’ Since it was her birthday, I didn’t want to say anything to the contrary.

“Well, its lively all right.” I said, as I tossed back the second one.

At least she liked the wine.

2

Holy shit! :eek:

It must be true love.

But damn, man! That’s a crime. Are you going to tell her eventually that she shouldn’t put effing candy in your fine bourbon?

3

Good on you for your response. But yeah, I’d find a way to hint that in the future fine expensive liquors shouldn’t be tampered with. :slight_smile:

4

Grape Jolly Ranchers? Solids make poor mixers.

Anyway, punish her by spiking her wine with Everclear*. I think it’s fair.

(*Note: I really don’t mean to actually do that. Everclear’s some pretty intense shit, yo.)

5

I don’t like you, fushj00mang. I don’t like your posts, your politics, your opinions, or pretty much anything I’ve ever seen on the SDMB with your name attached to it.

In this matter, however, you have my deepest sympathy and heartfelt condolences.

I would not wish such a thing on my worst enemy.

6

I don’t even like bourbon and I’m almost in tears.

7

:eek: :eek: :eek: :eek: :eek:

Liven up the flavor?! OMFG. That’d be like me giving Mr. Rilch a Wyeth print for his birthday and “livening it up” by going over some of the lines with a Sharpie. WTFF?

8

There are some things love doesn’t cover. Clearly, she’s a succubus and she’s got her claws in his very soul.

Jolly Ranchers. Christ on a cracker, get the girl some Pucker and keep her out of the grownups’ liquor cabinet.

9

micilin and his missus once brought me a bottle of very fine Chateauneuf-du-Pape back from France. I put it in my room so it wouldn’t get drunk by my roomies, to save for a special occasion. We had a party a couple of weeks later, and in the morning I found the bottle, empty, on the floor of my room. :frowning:

10

Now THAT is alcohol abuse…
Gah.

11

Well that OP didn’t end up where I thought it would.

12

fushj00mang, perhaps the Boones Farm 17 would be a more appropriate liquor-related gift in the future.

I love booze, and I especially love whiskey in all its glorious varieties.

What you need to do is put on a black suit, write a eulogy and bury that bottle in a beautiful place.

13

worst case of alcohol abuse I’ve ever heard.

14

My wife tried to put some water in with my scotch one time. I chopped off her hand with an axe.

I guess, in relation to the OP, I may have over-reacted.

15

Pretty much my sentiment too. Learning to appreciate something besides the sweet liqueurs and white zinfandel is possible, but it takes time - and something tells me that a gal who will drop Jolly Ranchers into a bottle like that without even a second thought may not even comprehend why one might appreciate a drink that doesn’t taste like candy, much less why she should attempt to broaden her tastes.

16

[sub]Hey! There’s nothing wrong with a good white zinfandel! Or a white merlot.[/sub]

17

OK, there’s nothing wrong with them, except that many white zins seem to be targeted to the “I want alcohol-containing Kool-aid” level of tastebuds. A combination of that preference plus an extraordinary lapse in judgement caused an amazing bottle of bourbon - with sentimental value, even - to be ruined.

That type of preference in alcohol isn’t uncommon, but when pursuing it leads someone to destroy an expensive, sentimental gift, it’s a sad thing. I’m not blaming it on her tastebuds entirely; the combination with that and her judgement did it.

[hijack]It is possible to broaden your tastebuds for various alcohols. I used to think beer tasted horrible and was at the sweet wine/wine cooler level of drinking. With gradual exposure to new things, I discovered the value in other types of alcohol. These days I like savory Italian red wines, and brew my own beer - and no watery American light lagers, either.[/hijack]

18

Man I hope you’re joking.

19

My friend added lemonade to a glass of Sancerre that I had served with smoked salmon and scrambled eggs (they also added ketchup to that), I nearly cried…to me that is akin to whipping your penis out at your grandmothers funeral to lighten the atmosphere.

20

Now there is a mental picture I could have done without