During Frozen Cocktail Week, I subbed Jell-O shots in as the Super Saturday Shot Day post, rather than create a frozen shot… for I believed a frozen shot to be an utterly insane and useless creation. Here we are two weeks later and I have in fact created a frozen shot, inside a frozen shot glass, no less. Mrs. Sip insisted it be done and here it is… now you all have her to blame for your ice cream headaches!
With that in mind, let’s take a few moments together to roast Mrs. Sip. She may be the best thing that ever happened to me, but that doesn’t mean she’s immune from a little Sip justice!
Stuck in Rome
Mrs. Sip and I love Rome, particularly the Trevi Fountain, which we have visited multiple times during the day and at night. On our last trip there in 2007, we had already stopped by during the day with our tour group, before we went off on our own for a romantic dinner. When our meal was complete, night had fallen and Mrs. Sip insisted on returning to the fountain for a twilight viewing. Off we went, snapped a couple photos, watched a drunk guy jump in, and tossed a penny into the attraction (usually a penny for a wish to return to Rome, but since the drunk guy may have been collecting them, let’s just call it charity). When we made our way back to the subway, we were met by a locked gate. Keep in mind it was only 9 pm on a Friday night… there was no way the line could be closed.
Frantically we searched for another entrance with no luck. The place our group was staying was 40 minutes outside the city by transport, so taking a cab was clearly not an option for us poor students. We tried figuring out a bus route that might get us to the train line we needed to take, but ultimately ended up stranded in the middle of nowhere in the middle of nowhere. Looking for a safe place to stay until the trains started running again at 5am, we ended up inside an American-themed hot dog and waffle joint that was open late. The Italian waitress, who spoke no English, and one beyond-drunk customer were our only company. As Mrs. Sip napped on our little table, the drunk dude tried in loud Italian, which I don’t speak, and violent hand gestures to communicate with me. When he noticed that I clearly didn’t understand he spoke even louder (because that does the trick, obviously) Finally I got across that he knew a guy who could rent us a room..by the hour…right.
Night turned into morning and we left our little slice of salvation en route back to the train station… with our still drunk, helpful, Italian associate in tow. Fear not, little sippers, he ended up coming in handy. When we reached the station we caught the first train of the day and were off. But our day pass transit tickets had now technically expired and we had spent the last of our cash on waffles on a stick. Enter our drunk Italian friend (yes, he was our friend now) who explained to the ticket collector our struggle and situation and the nice man allowed us to continue on our journey uninterrupted. We finally made it back to our campsite at 6:30am, with enough time for an hour-long nap, before we were back aboard the bus and onto our next destination.
Lost in Monaco
Here’s another tale from that same circuit tour of Europe… we had some sketchy luck during that vacation. Mrs. Sip and I had just spent an amazing evening in Monaco, walking to the city’s famous palace and enjoying the luxury casinos in the heart of the metropolis. As our tour group reconvened and headed back to the bus for the journey back to our humble (and I really mean that) abode. Along the way, Mrs. Sip stopped to take some photos and joined one of our fellow traveler in his. I kept with the group, theorizing that I could at least grab us some seats together on the bus.
When I boarded the bus, I quickly grabbed us a spot and watched the rest of the group pour one-by-one back onto the coach. With each passing person, I grew more anxious. Then, the once steady stream stopped and nobody else seemed to be coming. I looked around the entire bus, thinking perhaps she had boarded and didn’t see me and vice versa… no such luck. I began to panic a little as our tour guide asked if anyone was missing. Mrs. Sip and one other passenger were not with the group. The minutes seemed like hours as I waited. The bus couldn’t wait around all night, as the drivers have very strict rules as to how long they can be driving and how much time off they need before journeys.
It was time to go and I had to hurriedly hustle off the coach, so as not to leave Mrs. Sip behind (wherever she might be). For some reason, I had Mrs. Sip’s passport, wallet, and credit card on me and Mrs. Sip had just our camera…and the only map of Monaco we had. Fantastic. Thankfully, I went no further than a few steps when I spotted Mrs. Sip hauling ass towards the bus. She and the other missing passenger had taken a wrong turn trying to catch up to the group after their photo and had run back and forth through an underground tunnel vainly trying to find us. We flagged down our bus, quickly boarded and were off again with only 90% of the bus giving the future Mrs. Sip disapproving looks.
Mrs. Sip can be a funny specimen when she’s inebriated, although I guess we all can. During her university days, Mrs. Sip lived with a bunch of roommates who were very tight, being in the same sorority and some of them having been friends even before living together. After the girls went out for their end-of-the-year dinner, a bunch of their respective guys came up to join the party. When I arrived, Mrs. Sip and I went into her room so I could drop off my things and get settled in and she can change from her cocktail dress to something more comfy. As I sat in her computer chair, she started doing a karate-like interpretive dance and said that she could perform a roundhouse kick over my head.
Amused and curious to see where this might lead, I allowed her to make her challenge. Then, without warning, she backed up and went to fire her leg over my head… only her leg never got anywhere near me and instead, all that I heard as I closed my eyes was a sickening thud of flesh against desk. She had slammed her poor little foot, full force, right into the side of her desk and was now hopping around, howling. I’ve rarely seen Mrs. Sip cry… she’s cold as ice… but she was mighty close this time. The moans she was making had everyone in the nearby kitchen and living room thinking that the Sip Advisor was getting his swerve on. The other guys were cheering me on and congratulated me when I popped out of the room until I told them that I think she had broken her foot. The next day when I took her for x-rays, doctor’s, and hospital we had to explain over and over again that she had “kicked a desk” while I endured sidelong dubious glances from medical professionals. Ah well, I guess even Mrs. Sip is allowed a drunk faux pas every once in a while! (yes french pun intended)
Marrying the Sip Advisor
Perhaps the biggest mistake she’ll ever make! *rimshot*
Drink #243: Brain Freeze (A Sip Advisor Original Recipe)
- 0.5 oz Kraken Black Spiced Rum
- 0.5 oz 1800 Reposado Tequila
- 0.5 oz Crowberry Frost Liqueur
- Blend with Ice
- Garnish with a Maraschino Cherry
Mrs. Sip knows the stress she often puts me through with her misadventures… at least we’ve earned some good stories out of our mistakes!
Sip Advisor Bar Notes (3 Sips out of 5):
This is the perfect dare shot. It is not the easiest to drink (brain freeze, sensitive teeth, stomach freeze, etc.), but it’s incredibly fun and unique. The Tequila taste came out the strongest with a lingering Spiced Rum finish. I liked adding some Maraschino Cherry Juice to make it look like the frozen brain was bleeding! Give it a try sometime!