HORRORTINI

By

Michael Edwin Q.

I should’ve known I was in for trouble just by the look of her; she couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. But I felt swayed by that cute face, those soft doe-eyes, straight white smile, and friendly voice. So I took a chance.

She placed the drink on the bar; it looked harmless enough. The glass well chilled the way I like it, the liquid slightly frosty with two plump green olives pierced through the heart and joined in a lover’s embrace with a decorative toothpick. It held all the outward signs of a perfect martini. I took a sip; it was cold, wet…and horrible!

“Sweetheart, what brand of gin did you use?” I asked, scrunching my face and darting my tongue.

“Oh, that’s not gin; it’s vodka.”

“But I ordered a martini; that’s dry vermouth and gin!”

“Oh, we’ve those too; but nowadays, most people like it with vodka…see.” She handed me a “Martini Menu”.

Drinks were in order of popularity; sure enough, gin martini was at the bottom of the list. But what disturbed me most was how many sickeningly sweet concoctions were falsely sailing under the martini flag. Where I come from, when you mix two or more ingredients together it’s called a mixed drink – not a martini! There were drinks like: Apple Martini, Strawberry Shortcake Martini, even a Pumpkin Martini.

I shook my head in dismay. What is the world coming to? Is this the end of civilization as we know it? When a man sits down at a bar, orders a martini, his main concern shouldn’t be tooth-decay!

Oh, I know what you’re thinking – just another grumpy old geezer crying about the good-old days. Well, when they start brewing peppermint beer, served with vanilla ice-cream, whipped cream and a cherry, and start lacing twenty-year-old scotch with chocolate syrup and marshmallows – don’t come crying to me!