Bunnies Sunshine Flowers

Do you need salt?" Rob asked, as the waitress delivered what appeared to be two pint glasses of ice tea.

They were enormous, more akin to buckets than shot glasses. And that wasn't ice tea sloshing around inside. Sure I'd heard tales. I'd been privy to rumors. But the dirty little secret was, I'd never tried it.

"Of course not, you pussy!" I confidently replied. Girls were watching, and I wasn't about to show any signs of weakness.

It was early in my drinking career, still in college, and I had just become legal. I was well acquainted with beer, and no stranger to vodka, but tequila... Ah, tequila.

I took the glass in hand, hesitated only for the briefest of moments, and tossed it back in a smooth motion. I contained the reflexive grimace creeping across my face, and and held down the churning objection in my belly.

I had taken my first shot of tequila without assistance of lime or salt. The girls were impressed, and I was well on my way toward inebriation.

Since then, I have had a long and storied relationship with tequila. I have aged with it. Matured. I shot it when I was young, chasing the fiery chupecabra, the toxic tequila high. when I got a little older, I learned to mix margaritas from scratch, cultivating my creativity and sipping it socially.

Now I buy expensive tequila, and sip it straight, exploring the complicated character and savoring the spice.

Like fire, I have learned to fear and respect it. Also like fire, I occasionally get careless and burn myself.

It was the end result of two pint-sized Cointreau-flavored margaritas last night that produced the angry tirade that caused so much concern. In response, I promised happy bunnies, flowers and sunshine, and so, in good Lounge fashion, here they are:






Oh, and, go do a Google Images search for "sunshine bunnies." Check out which of your favorite bloggers shows up on the first results page...