by Craig M.
>We’ve been going to movies on this vacation. Just saw the new Bond flick, something about Tomorrow. There’s a scene where he’s waiting for an ex-flame to show up at his hotel room for a very delicate negotiation with possible sex and he’s priming himself by drinking double shots of Smirnoff out of a shot glass. By the time she arrives he’s had three doubles that we’ve seen, who knows how many before that. This scene is nothing but a commercial for Smirnoff. If you liked vodka this has high trigger potential, so watch out.
Smirnoff Vodka… the memories. The sweet burning taste of 100 proof vodka pouring straight from the bottle down my throat until it hit my stomach and made me subtly jerk forward with what remained of my gag reflex. A backpack smuggling the pint bottle with the blue label every time I entered or left the house. Only buying pints because each would be the last (for at least a while), but doing this at least once a day. Eating breakfast primarily because it meant avoiding the pain of the dry heaves when I puked in the bushes in the Berkeley Rose Garden on my way to campus. Not being able to get the right high anymore no matter how much I drank, figuring out that I had reached a point where there was no pleasure left in the bottle, and then continuing to drink nonstop for months anyway. Being freed at crucial times of silly self-imposed constraints like manners and respect, thus enabling me to really do my share in the downward spiral of my marriage.
Smirnoff memories, they might trigger another 3 years of sobriety.