BACKGROUND INFO: Tom(my fiance), my mom, my stepfather, and I were traveling on motorcycles in JULY from NC to
Mom and Bill had actually made several long bike trips, but this was our first…in JULY, heading SOUTH, where it is HOTTER. Sorry, dear reader, I tend to overemphasize A LOT. Also, if tequila does not make your clothes fall off, a 110 degree heat index will. I also easily stray off topic. Key West, FL.
My legs still shaky and butt numb, I decided to take in the view on our porch (actually a small piece of sidewalk) of our deluxe, el cheapo, efficiency. I soon spotted three red dots on a building across the street. Ah, the international, trans-cultural sign for alcohol. Damn, you don’t even have to know how to read to get this one….which was good, because my vision was blurred from bug entrails. Soon I was clinging tightly to a purse which was tucked under my arm while Tom played back up cop on the sidewalk/porch in front of our room door. Yes, he has a small weapon he keeps in his boot when he travels, but you didn’t hear it from me. I ducked and weaved through the crossfire of rival gangs to my polka dotted destination…eclectic neighborhood, Bill. As I was browsing the wares, I saw HER. She was on a shelf with two liter soft drink bottles…so out of place…so lonely…and too classy for this joint. I grabbed HER, and then went to find her section…There must be others. She must have family. There was not another bottle in the entire store, not even in the laundry area. I sensed she was a gift from the road gods, and it would be a sin if I didn’t buy her.
The following day, SGM got me through rush hour traffic in
, stalled on the back of a motorcycle with a 110 heat index. I was so happy…dehydrated…but happy. I was going to give it to my Rowdy friend Melanie* for her pre-wedding extravaganza when we arrived in Miami ; however, it was an emergency situation calling for extraordinary measures. She would understand. Besides, I would just get her another bottle when we arrived in Key West . Hell, it was Key West . Of course I would find it there….NOT. Every store, bar, tattoo parlor, and strip club on Duval Streetwas checked...no SGM. After several days, I began to doubt that it ever existed! Mom, however, did confirm it…she reminded me that we fought over the last precious sips upon arrival in Key West Key Largo.
Once I arrived home, I began to do a little on line research…Skinny Girl Margarita is the brain child of
Desperate Housewife. Bethenny is an emaciated stick figure who just had a baby and loves to cook…a walking paradox. She is beautiful, and apparently intelligent and funny, as well. BITCH. So, in googling SGM I found that you can make them yourself, with Bethenny’s recipe, or buy the bottles pre mixed…duh, I chose the latter. Then the task became finding a retailer who actually had it in stock. After due diligent shopping, I found Joe at the International Wine Shop in Bethenny Frankel, NY He will thence forth be called “My Supplier.” I ordered six bottles. My Supplier called me several times to let me know my order status…even once on a Friday evening…impressive personal service, which is certainly hard to find now a days. I am enjoying this unusual nectar as often as feasible. I think the bottles are great to have around for gifts, although I have yet given one…well I did give Melanie one. She does take care of my son two afternoons a week…sometimes more. Plus, it was originally bought for her pre-nuptials. I also know where the spare key to her house is hidden…just in case. The morning after I gave it to her, she sent me the following text message: Do not, I repeat, do NOT freeze SGM. It freezes almost entirely, and you therefore cannot have it for breakfast. Great information, which probably should take the form of a FDA warning label, Bethenny. Amazing SGM facts: drink an entire bottle….only 570 calories. A Whopper, just as delish, has 670. A Whopper, however, can’t delude you into believing you are attractive, fun and popular. Westport, CT.
*visit Melanie at email@example.com.