Drink of the Week
½ oz. dark rum
½ oz. light rum
½ oz. Triple Sec
½ oz. Crème de Almond (or Amaretto)
1 oz. sour mix
1 oz. orange juice
Top with 151 rum
An encounter with the Zombie, if you escape intact, will leave you shaken and stirred — and then some. From outer appearances, the tall drink looks like something you’d befriend in Key West. It resembles Sex on the Beach, with its red hue and frothy top, but if you get too close it will bite, it will take your soul. A few friends gathered to watch me dance with this devil. Bartender Mary Ann at the Back Door cautiously mixed the ingredients together. When she was finished, she stood back and, almost unwillingly, presented the beast before our eyes. My husky friend Clifton foolishly stepped up to the plate for the first sip. Instead of drawing a taste from the straw, he sipped off the top. The Zombie’s 151 bite devoured his tongue in seconds. He was gone, undead. I took things a bit slower, using the straw to draw from the bottom of the beast. With each gulp my body quivered. Nearing the halfway mark, the 151 poison now ingratiated, I could barely summon my basic instinctual mechanisms. My friend Laura finally looked over from her safe Bud draft and said, “Is that thing bothering you?” “Only when I swallow,” I muttered.
When the glass was finally empty, I sat back, dazed and dizzy. I suppressed my strange and sudden desire for human flesh with a bag of beef jerky that was being passed around the table.
ADDENDUM: That night we stumbled over to the State Fair for the Rick Springfield concert. Still under the Zombie’s spell, I swayed and swaggered to his familiar hits. Near the end of his show, I swear he sang a song with the following chorus: “Jesus saves white trash, baby like you.” To this day, I still wonder if that was the Zombie talking or if Rick has truly lost his mind. Any help?
Only 18 days till the annual “Gettin’ Drunky in Kentucky” Pub Crawl on Baxter and Bardstown roads. Stay tuned for more details or drop me a line at [email protected]