A Series of Unfortunate Drinks

A spicy blueberry margarita. Sounds awful, but the night before was delicious. There were four of us. One was having a birthday. The one with blue hair. 

The resort was fancy and strapped on the side of an active(ish) volcano. The kind of place where the plants are perfectly manicured and the drinks are $20 each. There was even a raccoon-like creature scavenging the breakfast area each morning. We named him Scott.

The blueberry margaritas tasted like battery acid. An undrinkable, $20 beverage to kickstart the birthday evening. So far, so bad. 

Strike one. 

The fancy resort called us a taxi to town which was a few miles from the volcano. Smart, I thought. Make the town as far from the volcano as possible. The fancy resort recommended a restaurant, so we loaded up in the taxi and headed out. The birthday girl loves potatoes. And wine. 

We arrived at the restaurant which was eerily empty and seemingly vanilla. There were a few tables scattered across the parking lot and racks of wine along the inside walls. We did not order the wine. 

Strike two. 

The birthday girl ordered a dirty martini. The CEO ordered a strawberry daiquiri. The FROL ordered a spicy margarita. I ordered nothing…waiting and see how horrible or wonderful each of theirs tasted before choosing my poison. You never know about random places in random countries. 

The dirty martini arrived and was decent. The olives predated Jesus Christ and tasted like embalming fluid. The spicy margarita was served up like a martini and undrinkable. The daiquiri, well, daiquiris are disgusting regardless and generally consumed by midwestern housewives on cruise ships.  This one tasted like a melted strawberry pop tart. 

“A dirty martini like hers on the rocks…with ice,” I smiled at the skinny, kind waitress who weighed 23 pounds and could not be any older than 12. She wore a typical black waitress outfit and a huge smile. 

My drink arrived. It was served, with ice, in a martini glass. Odd but fun I guess. It was gin. The birthday girl’s was made with vodka. I understand most martinis are gin but gin is garbage across the board. 

The last time I drank gin was at the dive bar I owned five years ago. I threw up in the parking lot. We were having a grand reopening party and had hired two girls to wrestle in oil. When they arrived, late, they asked for 10 gin shots. 

Ten. 

I watched each girl crush five gin shots in a row so they could loosen up for the wrestling match. Never in my entire life have I ever seen or heard anyone order a gin shot. Straight up. Warm. 

So I tried one. Say yes to adventure. Bad idea.

Anyway, my martini was undrinkable.

Strike three. 

So, I ordered a bottle of $25 wine for the table. The first win of the night. You can’t spell wine with win.

The town was dead because of the pandemic and Monday night so we wandered around until we found a place called Lava Lounge across the street from a few hostels. Any bar near a hostel should have lemon drops and low-end booze. Perfect.

The three ordered one of the signature cocktails. A vodka drink with lemon. It tasted like the Dead Sea.

Strike four.  

The blue-haired birthday girl was fed up and simply ordered a shot of tequila and a vodka water. Forty seconds later she was drunk and happy. 

Homerun. 

Cheers to the birthday girl, fun friends, Volcano Arenal, Costa Rica, weird drinks, and good times! 

Pura Vida!

Trey