by Thomas M. Pender
I am not a drinker. I never did enjoy any alcoholic beverage enough to overindulge. There are a few I like, though. Specifically, those drinks which have no hint whatsoever of alcohol in the taste. It has to taste like something other than gasoline. Mixed drinks with generous amounts of fruit juice or soda pop are just right for me.
With that in mind, I will rewind a bit. Unlike some of my classmates, I had no interest in alcohol when I was a teen. Didn’t think about it, didn’t wonder about it. I learned a lot from observation, and what I observed about folks who drank was nothing I wanted to get involved in.
I don’t think my parents really felt the need to warn me about much back then. I don’t wear guilt well. If I had been doing anything major that I shouldn’t have been doing, it probably would have appeared on my face like the marquee of a Broadway debut. I do remember a short “sex talk,” which I believe occurred immediately following a PTA meeting, so it must have been an interesting topic that night. Dad smoked, but I was nowhere near intrigued with the practice. Put simply, I was a viceless nerd. (Of course, I say that with pride.)
One ordinary day, Dad gave me some alcohol-related advice. This shocked me, as it was pretty much baseless. Dad didn’t drink much at all, I never drank, and we had never discussed the stuff before. In fact, we weren’t discussing it at that time, either. He said, “If you ever get the chance, try a Long Island Iced Tea.” Stymied, my only response was “Okay.” Then, I forgot all about it.
Approximately five years later, I was a freshman in college who still didn’t care about drinking. I was at virtually every party my floormates went to or held, but I was the guy with the Coke bottle in his hand, filled with actual Coke. I went with my compadres one day on a two-hour drive from East Lansing, Michigan, USA to Windsor, Ontario, Canada. The purpose of my friends’ trip was not only to purchase some inexpensive hard-to-find Canadian brew, but to get our clan to a bar in the nineteen-is-the-legal-drinking-age country next door.
I loved being among my peers on adventures, so I didn’t hesitate to get involved, but I had no plans to do anything but attend. Canada had Coke, right? No problem!
Once we got ourselves situated at a near-the-border tavern, the waitress went around the table for orders. Many beer names were requested, but when she got to me, my dad’s voice echoed in my head.
I said, “Give me a Long Island Iced Tea.”
I really didn’t expect to enjoy the drink, as the name forced me to guess that it was designed to taste like iced tea, of which I am no fan. I think it was just being in a position for the first time to actually order a drink, I wanted to get the curiosity over with. My friends were a bit shocked, knowing that I had never drunk before, that I went with such a drink. The reason is that, unlike myself, they actually knew what was in it. More on that later.
A tall mug was put in front of me with a great deal of ice, a watered-down-Coke-colored beverage and a straw. I took a meager sip and let the liquid register to my tongue. It tasted like . . . Kool-Aid! Kool-Aid, I can drink. Passing the non-iced-tea-tasting litmus test, I took another sip. Well, okay, I drank up half the large glass in one draw. When I sat back up, the entire tableful of drinkers was staring at me, slack-jawed. Everyone there knew I hadn’t had a drink before, and again, they knew what was in the mystery fluid.
“Are you okay?” a friend asked.
“Yeah!” I said. “Hey, can you bring me another one of these?” I asked, finishing the first. I had another, then I finished someone’s fuzzy navel (which also tastes not at all like gasoline), then I had a Coke.
It’s noteworthy at this point to say that I was rather thin back in these days. For those who don’t know, the effects of alcohol on a drinker are generally proportional to the proportions of the drinker. Skinnier drinkers get drunk quicker, as the alcohol has less drinker to travel through and affect. With this in mind, my friends were rather intrigued and a bit amused by my excursion. They were going to see the legendary and thin non-drinker after the effects of a few drinks!
I disappointed them all that night. As it turns out, I had a rather high natural tolerance for alcohol. I didn’t slur or sway a bit. Over the years, I’ve concluded that I’m a pretty boring drinker. I don’t like it enough to drink lots, but the effects are sorta non-effectual on me.
Here’s the punchline: After that trip, I looked up Long Island Iced Tea in a bartender’s guide. Depending on the recipe, there are between five and ten straight alcohols in this concoction . . . along with “a splash of Coke for color”! I can’t imagine how it tastes so non-alcoholic with that pedigree, but it sure won me over, after being disinterested in anything named “iced tea.” I still hardly drink. Mostly at wedding receptions or rare dinners with a party of others. Whenever I do, this is usually the drink I have first. It still tastes good and still doesn’t affect me much. Then, I switch back to Cokes and waters. Regardless of the flavor, I’m still just not impressed with the stuff.
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