So as I might have alluded to once or twice before on this blog, I have a little, tiny, eensey-weensey thing with alcohol. A Thing, if we like. Capitalized. Nothing so big that we might call it a problem, more of a…surplus of enjoyment. Yes. I enjoy too richly. That’s a good way to put it.
But it’s okay. It’s taken care of. The Thing will remain a Thing, rather than upgrading to a Problem. You know why? This shit. Right here:
Jumex. J-U-M-E-X. Say it slow enough and you kind of sound like the hateful commentor on a MSNBC news story, but it’s fucking delicious. Mix it up with a little lime and tonic water, throw some ice in there, and sit back and pretend you’re pickling your liver on fruity vodka drinks. No vodka required! Jumex has a kinda weird metallic aftertaste that’s pretty much like vodka anyway, at least after a few days cold turkey.
If I were running AA I would have a permanent charge account at every Mexican grocery store in town. (The AA that supports people whose Things have become out-and-out Problems, that is; not American Apparel, as was briefly confused in the comments on another entirely inappropriate blog post.) Take that stuff back to the halfway house, set up a little bar there — some wood paneling, some mirrors maybe — and let the Recovering play around with shakers and ice and Jumex.
I’ve even got people drunk on it, or drunk-er, even, serving juice-only cocktails to people who’ve had too many and don’t take well to being cut off at parties back in my wilder days. Sort of the exact opposite of a roofie, although I suppose it’s in the same non-consenting territory in a weird sort of way.
The spell-check does not know the word “roofie,” interestingly enough.
Anyway. You heard it here first. Jumex, for the recovering alcoholic. Or the budding one. Or just people who like juice!
Geoffrey is in no way associated with Grupo Jumex, and in fact was a little frustrated that he could pull up like six Google Image results from other sites in the time it took their antiquated website to load.