when the cat’s away

19 Jul

Sometimes your main squeeze leaves early for a trip, which leaves you with a completely free weekend—nowhere to be, no plans on the docket, nothing. It’s not an easy situation to handle, but pull up a chair, Interwebers, and I’ll walk you through the coping process.

First, flip open your iTunes and put on some Shannon McNally, warbling at the top of your lungs as if all the pain and suffering and pining in the world doesn’t hold a candle to your heartache, “When will I see my oh-oh-only one?” and completely disregard the fact that only a few hours earlier you said to your main squeeze, “How can I miss you if you never leave?” as you cheerily waved him off at the airport. Mope around in circles for awhile annoying your neighbors with your singing. And maybe pretending you are in a very arty music video and wonder why YOU haven’t become a singer, because damn, girl, you can sing along with this song like nobody’s fucking business.

Next, pull the vodka out of the freezer. Invite your friend HO over with promises of lemon drop martinis. Ask her politely to pick up an extra lemon.

Gather the ingredients, and thank your lucky stars that you paid attention when your friend Consuela at the golf club told you how to make a lemon drop.

Slice the lemons, and run one lightly around the edge of your martini glass. This helps the sugar stick to the rim. Turn your glass upside down on the pile of sugar, and voila! A sugared rim. Which is key to a lemon drop. Okay, maybe not key, but it’s yummy and it looks fancy and sometimes you just need a little fancy.

Pour vodka into a shaker, and squeeze in the juice of about half the lemon. (More or less depending on how lemon-inclined you are.) Add a little bar sugar if you so desire, and if you don’t have bar sugar, add in table sugar, but don’t be alarmed when it all clumps at the bottom of your glass.

Realize that you don’t have a martini shaker.

Look around fruitlessly for your main squeeze’s Amazon.com water bottle that you’d previously used as a cocktail shaker, only to realize that you actually returned that to him at some point. Shake your fist both at yourself and your main squeeze, who has not one but two cocktail shakers and wonder why he couldn’t leave THAT at your apartment instead of a half-empty carton of chocolate soy milk that was yours to begin with.

Spot your main squeeze’s coffee travel mug that you brought him from your Alaskan adventure.


Decide it can totally double as a cocktail shaker.

Resume making cocktails.

Shake the cocktail over the sink, just to be sure that nothing leaks. Because maybe you forgot to close the sipping part of the lid.

Pour the drink into your sugared rim martini glass and sip. DO NOT GUZZLE. Otherwise, you’ll be drunk before you know it and you’ll do something stupid. Don’t try an deny it. Everyone does stupid shit when they’re drunk. And if your main squeeze is out of town, it will probably involve him and then in the morning you’re going to have to explain why you sent him 14 texts with all the lyrics to Stairway to Heaven. Instead, sip, and enjoy the company of HO while you discuss Very Important Topics that can’t be discussed when your main squeeze is around, like her insane job, and the breakfast menu that you’re going to make the morning of Everyone Needs a Julie’s wedding, and how you got a massage that morning and felt like you got beat up by the time you were done. In a good way. Not that your main squeeze doesn’t enjoy hearing about these things, but he’s heard about them a million times and is probably tired of it. Best to have these conversations with your girlfriends who have the capacity to talk about these topics ad nauseum.

Repeat the above steps for a second cocktail before your friend HO pulls herself from the couch to head home. Wave goodbye, and gently close the door. Call your main squeeze and think about bragging about your lemon drop martini-making skillz and be all, “You missed out, suckah! You in Chicago!” then realize that he probably doesn’t care because he spent the evening drinking German beer and eating German food. Be mildly bummed that you didn’t drink beer or eat schnitzel, but cheered by the fact that you at least have your lemon drop making skillz. Say goodnight.

Spy a couple of limes that you bogarted from your main squeeze’s house on the way out the door to the airport. Think about making gimlets tomorrow night.


3 Responses to “when the cat’s away”

  1. The Swede July 19, 2010 at 2:59 PM #

    I like a woman who doesn’t let things like a lack of a shaker prevent her from enjoying her chosen cocktail. It speaks to character and dedication.

  2. mary July 19, 2010 at 3:26 PM #

    Is it wrong that I like these recipes more than the ones where cake shows up to the party? Rock on, girl.


  1. things i’ve been meaning to tell you: january 2015 | McPolish.com - January 7, 2015

    […] And then I get weepy and miss my main squeeze and my animal house and poor Swede gets voicemails of me warbling Shannon McNally at him, and really it’s just a shitshow of me being a pansy. So, to recap: Travel = good, great even. […]

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