Jager is not for 23 year olds
There are few things sadder than waking up on your friend’s couch with your makeup still half on, realizing you did a shot of Jager last night like a fucking 18 year old sororiety girl.
The first time I was ever drunk I was actually 17, but the liquor of choice was Jager and peach schnapps. I was not, nor have I ever been, in a sororiety. Since that first drink I’ve tried pretty much everything, but I tend to shy away from overly sweet liquors. Jager actually disgusts me and many of my friends. It seems a lot of people’s first experience with alcohol is with either Southern Comfort or Jager, and my theory is that this is because liquor stores let kids with obviously fake IDs buy that shit because it’s so hellaciously disgusting that no one who has developped any real taste for alcohol will touch it.
I “try on” different liquors. After living in Scotland, I know a decent amount about Scotch. Some nights I’m Single Malt with a Water Back, and those are the nights when I want to feel mysterious. Some nights I’m Gin and Tonic, my down and dirty drink. Gin and Tonic goes well with dive bars and pool. Sometimes I’m just Pint of Cider. That’s when I feel most myself, but much rarer in the States than in the UK.
 Last night I was Top Shelf Vodka and Cranberry - God knows why - dressed in all black with unsensible stacked heel shoes, getting hit on as usual by 42 year olds and men with girlfriends. I was not completely drunk, but I was drunk enough to smoke a cigarette outside the bar given to me by one of those men with a girlfriend (who, it must be said, groped me when he gave it to me), which I have done about 6 times in my entire life.
I was also drunk enough to take that shot of Jager he bought for himself and the three girls in our group. I can still feel it burning down my digestive tract. My first thought upon lifting the glass to my mouth was “oh God why?” but I did it anyway. And today the sense-memory of it is causing my whole chest to burn. Or maybe those are my lungs crying softly for mercy.
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Next time you’re in LA I’m going to buy you shots of Aftershock so the gold flakes can “cut up your throat” and let more alcohol in.