[the quest for the cucumber gimlet]

Last night I went out, and today I feel like a delirious zombie. Not because I’m hung over, mind you, but because I’m sleep-deprived. Hashtag You Know You’re Old When.
Anyway, the main reason for going out (besides the fact that it was Friday and I wanted to get my drank on) was to try the Cool as a Cucumber drink at Martini Republic.  Those who know me know my ridiculous history with this drink, and are probably tired of hearing me go on about it. BUT I DON’T CARE because at this point, right now, in 2013, it has become legendary (to me) and has taken on mythical and epic proportions (again, only to me). Here’s the story:

About a year and a half ago, I recall having a conversation with a co-worker about good restaurants/lounges in Tampa, and she mentioned the cucumber gimlet at Martini Republic was really good. A f ew months later, we again got on the topic of restaurants and bars around town and I mentioned I wanted to go try the cucumber gimlet at Martini Republic because K (my co-worker)  said it was really good. However, K looked confused and said she had never tried that drink or even been to Martini Republic. I was all, “Yo, K, I can picture us having this conversation in my head. You and your boyfriend wanted to see what Martini Republic was all about, and you ordered the cucumber gimlet. DON’T LIE TO ME.” And she was all, “You crazy bitch, I promise you I have never been there.”

So I took some creative liberties with citing exactly what was said, but the gist was the same: I could have sworn we had a convo about this drink, but she had no idea what the hell I was talking about. So then I had to wonder: did I actually have this conversation, but with another person, and I just don’t remember him/her? Or did I dream this conversation up? I went online and looked at the drink menu, and there was indeed a drink called Cool as a Cucumber, which I presumed to be the cucumber gimlet my friend was talking about. Instead of drawing the logical conclusion of this being an actual conversation I had with somebody who I didn’t remember, I hopped a boxcar on the Crazy Express and opted to believe that I dreamed up the entire conversation, but that my dream was prophetic in some way, since the drink did exist. Maybe the man of my dreams was at this bar, and I would meet him when I went there to try the drink! Maybe once I took a sip, the gateway to Narnia would open, and I’d become besties with that lion! Somehow, the drink went from being a simple drink to the key to my destiny, and for a year and a half, I planned, I plotted, and meditated upon the drink. And last night, I finally went to meet my destiny.

AND I WAS CRUSHED HARDER THAN ARON RALSTON’S DIY AMPUTATED ARM. Because when I got up to the bar and excitedly asked the bartender for the Cool as a Cucumber, he informed me they didn’t have it. My bubble was burst. The wind was taken out of my sails. Insert any other cliché  about being disappointed here. I felt empty inside. So I ordered a dirty martini instead:


The night went on. I danced. I laughed. I had drinks that weren’t cucumber gimlets. And when I went to check out the Martini Republic drink menu online earlier today, just to see if I misread anything, guess what I saw as being listed as a signature drink?


Friends, this drink just reached Holy Grail Status. This quest is not yet over. And I will seek vengeance on that lying bartender.

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