malachi wrote:Need to hear more!!
And pics!!!!
I have no pics, actually. I decided it best to leave my camera at home...see comment about shit show above. However, I can provide some details if you must have them.
As a holder of a VIP ticket I didn't expect to see such a large number of other VIP ticket holders. I paid attention to the number of regular ticket holders that entered at the appropriate time, and it seemed much less than VIP. That's bullshit. However, I did appreciate having the opportunity to sample some very old scotch. With that being said, some of the ones I wanted to try weren't "here yet" for the VIP hour. Excuse me? Did your bottle get stuck in a gutter somewhere? Plan better, fuckers. There was no Yamazaki 1984.
During this VIP hour I was rushing around trying to sample everything I wanted. Hindsight, this was a stupid method. I didn't take enough time to sit and ponder the subtleties of the drams I was drinking. Additionally, after a few cask strength samples and a bunch of other regular pours, plus some american crafted whiskey and bourbon, my palette was starting to not function so well. The single malts were merging into a blend of old. I'd never done a tasting of this caliber...noob mistakes.
I also tried High West Whiskey. I have concluded, after thorough sampling, that I do not like bourbon or american whiskey.
90 minutes after I started was the interesting Glenrothes seminar. Six half oz samples of varying vintages, 1975 through 1993. Entertaining, and the slower pace helped me (somewhat) differentiate the flavors I was tasting. Sitting down for an hour, though, not the best idea. There was the standard cheeky scott on stage. Self deprecating chap, he was!
Leaving the seminar feeling swell, I proceeded to drink everything Islay. Every Caol Ila and Laphraoig was ingested, plus some others I couldn't pronounce even sober. My buddy, by the way, is a pussy and doesn't like cask strength. To this I say, "I will drink yours then, fool." The shit show begins, right? My drinking buddy also convinced me that finishing the night with Chivas was a great idea. Fuck him. I don't care if it's 21 years old.
I remember talking to a former marine about my buddy who is going to Afghanistan next month. I probably cursed "the man" or some shit. He was drunk, I was drunk. Bro hug.
Pretty much that ends my detailed memory of the evening. I do recall, after leaving, this dude falling backwards down the escalator in front of me. I did not help, but let out a hoot n' holler and watched him struggle to get up. I was busy holding on to the railing!
Cue the walk to my buddy's employer, a fancy steak house, so he could talk to someone. I went to piss! Three buttons on my suit pants. Cursed buttons almost were my downfall. There was some further walking, less memory, $9 to a homeless guy on the corner. He sweet talked me with his discussion of crappy weather.
I arrive home, somehow.
Excellent evening. I'll do it better next year.
