I don’t want to alarm anyone but I think I’m allergic to citrus.
Let me explain.
On Saturday night I headed into town to meet up with a fabulous group of women I’ve met via Instagram. We went to a swanky rooftop bar where my drink of choice was a cosmo.
Now if you’ve been hanging out here for a while you will know that it’s been quite some time since I’ve had a night out. Over a year in fact, thanks to the pesky IIH thing I’m working hard to beat.
But on Saturday night the company was great, the conversations were hilarious and the drinks were, well, they were going down faster than the bartender could say, “That’ll be $17 thanks.”
On a random side note, which may or may not make me sound like a complete Nanna, how do young people actually afford to go out these days? I mean 17 bucks for one drink – was the vodka going to be hand poured by an actual Russian while someone picked fresh cranberries from the organic orchard growing nearby and juiced them before my very eyes?
No, they weren’t. Which, I’m not going to lie, was a bit disappointing. BUT, the bartender did finish each cosmo off with some sort of show pony orange peel arrangement which was kind of impressive.
Once each cosmo was mixed to perfection, he took a small piece of orange peel and burnt it slightly with a lighter. He then rubbed it around the rim and the stem of the glass before delicately plonking it into my drink.
Now I’m not entirely sure how I feel about sipping on several very strong vodka based cocktails that have been rubbed heavily in orange peel but hey, you only live once and it’s Russia somewhere, so cheers!
Sunday Morning
Sunday morning wasn’t particularly cute and as I woke up to a thumping headache and a craving for bacon, there could be only one explanation.
I think I’m allergic to citrus.
And like any good allergy you have to narrow it down. So next time I’m out I’ll have to try tequila. You know, to rule out lemon.
Leave a Reply