I broke the shot glass.

A beautiful, simple, elegant shot glass that belongs to Handsome and has survived years in a bachelor pad until I get a hold of it – or lack thereof – and now I’m scraping glass shards out of the cast iron sink with a wad of paper towels.

Already a tough day, I had decided I needed a drink. No, I wanted a drink. Need infers no choice in the matter. I had plenty of choice and all impulses were shouting “lemon drop now!” Being a tad lazy (did I mention the hard day?), I didn’t bother with the shaker, but I still wanted the sugar rim on the glass because some things are just worth it.

The Sugared Rim

I cut a lemon wedge and moistened the rim, which just means running the fruity side of the lemon wedge along the edge of the glass until I could see the juice clinging to the glass.

The natural sugar (only one packet – see I can be sensible with my splurges) was ready in the saucer next to the glass.

Then, I squeezed the lemon wedge into the glass and flipped it over onto the sugar plate to coat the rim.

Mmmm hmmm

Yep.

See what I did there?

Oh, yeah, feeling like a rock star genius today.

The lemon juice, of course, spilled out onto the plate soaking all the beautiful, luscious natural sugar which will not coat to the glass rim now.

Sigh, sad.

Undefeated, I took a spatula and nudged the now wet sugar into my glass.

Now, a single shot just won’t do.

A little more than a single shot

I grab the shot glass and fill it to the top, way above the recommend line (“it’s merely a guideline,” as Handsome likes to say) with triple sec.

Next, I grab the vodka from the freezer and quickly (because that bottle is cold) pour it to the rim. I add it to the glass and watch it slowly combine.

The shot glass drop

My hands were slightly wet from vodka when I moved to rinse out the shot glass. I felt the cold smooth edges slip to the right and watched helplessly as it fell, shattering against the bottom of the sink and the base of the glass – still intact – plops down into, you guessed it, the garbage disposal. The sharp broken edges are facing up.

My hands were slightly wet from vodka when I moved to rinse out the shot glass. I felt the cold smooth edges slip to the right and watched helplessly as it fell…

Really?

I was tempted to just cuss and start drinking.

Sad, because I loved this sturdy, dependable, elegant (have I already said this?) shot glass, I pulled on the largest side hoping to dislodge the rest of the glass from the disposal hole. It didn’t seem inclined to move anytime soon without bloodshed.

Not inclined to add an ER visit to already less than stellar day, I used both hands, maneuvering on two different angles to try and work it out. Some
patience and slight wiggling for a few minutes and then…pop! It was free.

Confession

Gathering up the shards, I put them in the recycle box because I always recycle even in the bad moments. Feeling a bit of dread mixed with an already healthy dose of embarrassment, I went upstairs to face Handsome and confess I broke his shot glass.

“Oh, that’s okay. I stole it from a high-end bar years ago.”

Oh, okay. Not so bad after all. Fortunately, I think statute of limitations applies.

Time for my drink

Back to the kitchen. I stirred my pseudo lemon drop with my favorite stainless steel swivel spoon and took a drink.

Strong and lousy.

Note to self, on days like these, ask Handsome to take care of all drink-related activities. He does a wonderful job at not breaking things and his sugared rims are delicious.