KNIFING THE TONIC

All I want is a drink. 

It has been a seriously crappy week at work pulling double duty two days/nights plus a third afternoon with conferences, the higher admin is collectively acting like spoiled brat idiots, the new term starts so I have to post grades and hope no one bitches too much, I almost get killed on the highway to the airport (and get semi-lost on the way out), my cell phone is possessed, and I have to pay bills or risk going to debtors' prison.

All I want is a gin and tonic tall.  You know what that means?  It means one shot of gin to a tall glass of tonic water -- basically, a slightly salty soda with a large twist of lime.

I usually buy the cheapo tonic water at 2 for $1, but I think, "Wow, the tall bottles go flat so fast, so I should buy the small six-pack of tonic waters!"  What I forget is that the small bottles are a bitch to open.  I think I'm saving money and being smart about not wasting excess flat tonic water, but, honestly, the hassle isn't worth it.  Now, instead of a glass, a lime, some tonic water, and some gin, I need a lot more equipment to make a drink.

Yup.  I need leather gloves, a rubber jar opener, a serrated-edged steak knife, and some Tylenol.

For some ridiculous reason, the plastic tops on these small bottles of tonic water are made without proper perforations.  Instead of having a twist-away top with a small plastic neck ring left behind, the entire top is one melted-together piece of plastic that is un-openable, fused-shut, and  locked tighter than Fort Knox's vault.  In other words, the workmanship of making these bottle caps sucks ass.

In order to make a drink, I have to cut away at the glass bottle holding the tonic water hostage.  I take the serrated knife and saw back and forth, around and around, over and over again until I can hear metal scraping glass all around.  Then, I put on the leather gloves and attempt to get a grip for twisting off the cap.  Sometimes this works, but usually I need to saw a little more then use the rubber-matted jar opener to finish the job. 

Finally, after blowing out veins in my forehead and popping blood vessels in my eyes from straining so hard, the fucking miniature tonic water bottle opens.  This is where the Tylenol comes in -- to prevent a migraine from bursting part of my brain trying to twist off a cap.  Fuck my life, because I have to now repeat this process five more times to open the entire six-pack of Schwepps or Canada Dry.  (I avoid Polar because, even though it's made locally, it has bad chemicals in it ... worse than the others ... from what I've read, but what the hell do I really know.  I use leather gloves to mix drinks, for chrissakes.)

Don't panic, though.  I slice my limes with a completely different knife, not the one infused with plastic shards.  I mean, seriously.  I want a clean drink, after all; I'm not a complete heathen.