Thursday, July 19, 2007

The Bane of My Existence

Some time ago, I made an impulse purchase. I was shopping for various accessories for my iPod down at Fry's Electronics, and while standing in the checkout line, there was a display of nifty retro barware for sale. Of course, every swingin' Vegas bachelor needs a martini shaker, and I didn't have one. And since I was livin' in the most shagadelic pad in all of the 702 at the time, I immediately justified the $18 expense and tossed it in the cart.

I keep a decent collection of booze on hand, but anyone who's been to my house can tell you that it consists of 90% rum and 10% whiskey. But martini mixing requires infused vodkas, funky liqueurs, and having a proper bottle of gin on hand. I had none of the above. Not wanting the expense of buying ten or twelve new bottles of booze at the same time, I figured my new martini shaker would be the cornerstone of my newly updated bedroom mini-bar and I could always make a trip out to Lee's Discount Liquor Warehouse on paydays to slowly build the stocks.

So my new martini shaker sat on the shelf next to the rum bottles for several months, gathering dust as other priorities took over my discretionary income. Besides, who wants to drink alone? That's just pathetic and sad. And I certainly didn't want to drink with my roommates at the time--they were even more pathetic and sad.

Once I realized that I was moving out of the swingin'-sixties-pad-without-the-swingers, I packed up all my booze and accessories and waited for the day I could set up shop at my new place. And once I got the keys, the first thing I unpacked was all of the booze, and I set my new martini shaker in a place of honor on one of the built-in display shelves.

Thinking I could make some sort of tasty celebratory treat to toast the fact that I was now living in a much better place, I gathered up some ice, a bottle of vanilla rum, a bottle of coconut rum, and some Kahlua, ready to shake shake shake like Michael J. Fox listening to KC & the Sunshine Band.

Unfortunately, the martini shaker wouldn't come apart. The lid would come off, but I couldn't get the top half separated from the bottom half. It was fused on as tight as a drum. I twisted with all my might, tugged at it, even beat it on the floor. No luck--it was good and stuck.

Knowing a little about physics, I put the bottom half in a bowl full of ice, hoping to make it contract a bit, while I tickled the rim with my torch-style cigar lighter, heating up the top half to make it expand. No dice--my kung fu was not strong enough to defeat the will of the martini shaker.

Swearing didn't work either, nor did enlisting the help of outsiders to hold one end while I tried to twist the other. The only thing I haven't tried, short of a hacksaw, it putting the thing in a vice, and that's only because I don't have one.

So basically, it's just a big damn silver paperweight at this point, taking up space in my kitchen, and I'm not able to make martinis. Or at least look cool while making martinis.

I guess I'll just have to stick with the Captain and Coke in a big damn plastic cup. Bummer.


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