Friday, April 17, 2009

Bourbon and me

My first encounter with bourbon was just a few years back at a delightful writers conference. My roommate, having read Chuck Palahniuk's Haunted, wanted to be sure nobody killed and cannibalized her at this event, so she came well-stocked: Oreos, Goldfish and a nifty bottle of Basil Hayden which she shared. Her strategy worked: we let her live.

Not long ago my husband and I popped into our favorite liquor store, where the friendly salesclerk recommend Bulleit, because "it's a hit with the hipsters." Not wanting to appear over the hipster hill, we snagged it, nestling it in our booze box between this and that.

Last night my former writer's conference roommate popped up in Southern Calilfornia, and we met for drinks in downtown Disney while the rest of her family partied up the street. Catal didn't have Basil's, but it did have Bookers. That double set her back a bit of change, but she shared it, I sampled it. As smooth as they come. We caught up, savoured the bourbon, and watched Disney's fireworks from the comfort of our table. It made my commute there and back so worth it.

Happy hour beckons, now it's time to track down a bottle of that stuff--


  1. With or without the bourbon, you are so totally hipster.

  2. Gee, that's my kind of roommate.

  3. It just feels so good on my throat ." That's what my mother used to say. As for me, you pour it, I'll drink it! Maga

  4. Thanks so much for driving all that way to visit. I'll share my bourbon with you, happily, any day of the week, because you are better than any single barrel out there!