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From Absinthe to Zima
- University Press of New England
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- Additional Information
26 nicole callihan t From Absinthe to Zima An Incomplete Index absinthe: You are twenty. Your hair is dirty but your eyes are bright, and you are studying abroad, have already perfected your ordering of a pint of cider, but then you read that quote by Oscar Wilde, the one about how drinking absinthe gives him the peculiar feeling of having tulips on his legs, so you slink from bar to bar in Prague whispering, “Absinthe, please.” Most of the bartenders laugh, but then one gives you something and you suck down the licorice of it and palm your jeans waiting for blooms to explode from the holes. Outside, the sun sets twice; inside, you watch the bartender’s mouth open and close like some kind of flower-turned-fish-turnedstrangely sweet cannibal. Beer: Also known as “the old standard.” Invented in 9000 bc, discovered (by you) in 1986 (at the age of twelve, long before you’d even heard of the Czech Republic) when you were sneaking Pabst Blue Ribbons in the rec room. You took a sip, shuddered. Periodically, over the years, you think it’s funny to drink a beer first thing in the morning. You watch as your mother or roommate or husband leaves for work (and your children for school), then you pop one open and turn on The Today Show. “Ahhh,” you say, and swish the bubbles in your mouth. Cosmopolitans: Or something equally girly and probably pink, inspired by a television show or particularly gorgeous weather and consumed in your early twenties or until you discover something stronger (see Martini). Every time you wrap your From Absinthe to Zima t 27 mouth around the word, you feel like a big old cliché, feel magazine slick and twice as empty, but still you say it. “Bartender ,” you say and keep saying until your knees are sour cherries and you try to find your way home. Devil’s Brew: The general term your grandmother, Mama Heaton—who, though surely driving a fine Cadillac in heaven by now, was an accused kidnapper and a devout sniffer of peach snuff—used for alcohol. “Nothing but the devil,” she said. The term still haunts you, and on the mornings when your legs are decidedly not tulips and your mind spins so wildly that you’ve got nothing to believe in but God, you wonder if she was on to something. Everclear: You are fifteen. Stacy Allen—still, even in your late thirties, the coolest person you have ever met—hands it to you in a Dixie cup. You sip; you puke; you vow to never touch the stuff again. Stacy holds your hair back and says you look pretty when you cry. You make note of this and spend the next twelve or so years trying to make yourself cry when you’re around people you hope will find you pretty. Fuzzy Navel: This is one of those slippery fish memories, but you’re pretty sure it happened. You’re almost certain, in fact, that from the ages of six to nine, during the 1980, ’81, and ’82 Miss America pageants (which crowned, respectively, Cheryl Prewitt, Susan Powell, and Elizabeth Ward Gracen, who later gained notoriety when it was revealed that while crowned she had what she called “unforced sex in a limousine” with thengovernor Bill Clinton), you sat on the bed with your cousin and your aunt, and your aunt poured the three of you Fuzzy Navels—“Our secret,” she called them—and the three of you sipped the peachy cocktails while eating not one but two containers of French Onion Dip and marveling at the slimness of the beauty queens’ thighs. Gin Fizz: A cocktail consumed by others. Men, probably. Or Europeans. H–J: (see also pages 1–332); Hiccup of girl (11); hiccup of [54.159.186.146] Project MUSE (2024-03-29 02:27 GMT) 28 t n i c o l e c a l l i h a n woman (16, 18, 23, 27, 29, 30–32, 35); hiccup of would-be (25), of has-been (27), of never-again (28, 37); peach hiccup (7); pony hiccup (25); Dixie cup hiccup (15); hiccup to end all hiccups (41); hiccup me, hiccup you (19); hiccup red, hiccup blue (34). Kamikaze: You are twenty-four. After years of folding shirts in the mall and throwing bagels across a counter, you’ve finally landed your dream job: cocktail waitress. Your wrists are strong from carrying...