The Hangover Cure: Or some strange mixers?
Okay many of us have been there. I get it, we’re students; we may be poor but are you seriously going to drink that? I once saw a man drink what I can only assume was a concoction from the depths of the hell out of an old boot. I’m not going to judge you and I can’t encourage excess drinking but if you are going to do it, I like to avoid that dash to the toilet. Not to say that some of my uni nights haven’t led to the drinking of some often-questionable mixers. In my later years I have, however, decided to save my stomach and the toilet of the consequences. Let’s discuss some of the strange (in my opinion) alcoholic beverages, some unfortunate instances from my time in hospo, and I’ll also throw in alleged hangover cures just for some added spice.
My experiences working at a bar are probably not unfamiliar to many of us students. So, a lot of what I’m saying may hopefully resonate. Some drinks of choice I tapped into the POS many not actually be that weird but bear in mind I was young and have since left that realm.
This may not be all that weird, but I can’t fathom the idea of drinking tomato juice. Bloody Mary? Bloody hell. Tell me, is it good? In all honestly, I’m afraid to try it (yes, I know I shouldn’t comment). Now I can almost understand consuming tomato juice in a cocktail, but is the celery stick necessary? I googled the recipe and vodka, tomato juice, okay makes sense (still weird), but you lose me at Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco hot sauce, salt and pepper. Sounds like the inside of my fridge when I forget to buy groceries. Yet you could only imagine my confusion when a customer once asked me for neat tomato juice. If anything, I can only applaud them on their blatant confidence.
In first year, I heard that red wine and cola was a good combo. Honestly, that was the worst mistake of my young life. I think it is a popular drink in Spain, and I’m sure it’s good when done right but back then I certainly did it very wrong. At first it was okay, it was sweet. However, it was also room temperature and a scary shade of red. The thing about a $10 bottle of red wine is that it doesn’t go down easy, but I wanted to be classy. This is quickly negated when mixing it with cola. I tried to play it off like I was cultured, that I knew it was from Spain, but in truth I only checked that after I did it. The other thing about a $10 bottle of red wine in reverse it comes up just as pissed. Mixed with cola; you’re a creature from every horror flick spewing up black goop. Traumatising. Never again.
Once at the bar, I was asked for a ‘Fluffy Duck’. Imagine the look on my face. It was three hours into my eight-hour shift, and I was slightly sleep-deprived-delusional from the week of uni. I just stared blank-faced into the customer’s soul trying to unscramble what the actual hell this guy was asking. To be honest, I’m not sure they knew what they were asking, so being a confused little server, I asked the bar staff. I remember being so afraid that I’d look like the biggest idiot for not know this potentially obvious beverage so the relief that washed over me when the bartender had to google the recipe was glorious. Turns out a fluffy duck is a concoction of gin, advocaat, triple sec, orange juice and lemonade. Sounds quite good really.
I like to think I have good Spidey senses, quick reflexes, balance, and all that. You need it to carry trays of cocktails, to weave around customers and not spill a drop. That didn’t stop me from smashing a couple glasses every other Friday/Saturday night. Once, when carrying an overly full tray of cocktails, my F1 reflexes left my body in probably the most spectacular way. I had successfully transferred all but one cocktail. Of course, I flopped at the final hurdle and that Manhattan spilt over this poor woman and the seat. Embarrassing. A part of me died that day and I still haven’t recovered.
Another time I successfully made it to a table with their drinks but clearly it looked like I’d been through a war to get there. I don’t miss working twenty firsts, actual hellscape, wouldn’t recommend. Clearly my ordeal didn’t go unnoticed by my table. When they asked if I was “okay” all that service ‘pretend this dumpster fire level train wreck doesn’t bother you and smile’ went out the window. I just looked at them and let out a pathetic and shaky ‘no.’ Turns out they appreciated my honesty and thought I was incredibly funny. I wasn’t joking.
Hangovers have to be the worst thing about alcohol, and I very much enjoy waking up on a Sunday ‘so fresh and so clean’, but I also like a night out with my friends. Of course, a hangover is avoidable. Yet sometimes you go too hard at the rave or whatever and it just happens. You and your flat end up looking like the grandparents from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and you recap the night before whilst you wallow in self-pity. I have decided to throw in some alleged hangover cures.
I heard that pickle juice is a good one, not sure how well it works though. I do know how it tastes. If you want to feel like you’ve licked a battery this one is for you. Coffee I’m certain works to wake you up. Pickle juice likes to remind you that you are an idiot for drinking it. Fizzy lemonade is another cure that I think actually works, if not that it doesn’t hate you back. Give me a crispy lemonade any day.