Sunday, January 9, 2011
The Bother with Booze
I have taken to cooking since my departure from home. I love making all sorts of goodies, from chutney to caramel, I’ve made it. So when my friend asked me to help her make compote, of course I was down for the challenge. It seemed simple enough and sounded fancy, so we went off to the store to pick up some rhubarb and port wine.
We tracked through the aisles of the local grocery store looking for any trace of alcohol to no avail. We could find beer, but besides that, the only alcohol we could find was Listerine. I knew people who had cooked with wine before, so I decided to give a friend a call, but unfortunately enough for me, my phone decided to break, leaving me to yell into the receiver and the speaker working for every other word. “YOU KNOW, LIKE A LIQUOR STORE! WHAT? UTAH ONLY SELLS ALCOHOL AT STATE LIQUOR STORES? WELL WHERE IS ONE? WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR A THING YOU ARE SAYING AND I JUST NEED SOME BOOZE! YOU KNOW WHAT, MY PHONE IS BROKEN, AND CAN SOMEBODY ELSE CALL YOU AND GET DIRECTIONS?” By that time, the entire store had stopped their last minute, Saturday-night-before-the-Sabbath shopping and just stared, mouth agape, like cows in a pasture. “What? I just need some booze! Is that too much to ask?”
So we left to go to the state liquor store when I look at my truck’s clock. 11:34. It was time to beat the clock because there was no way that liquor stores would be open on a Sunday in Utah, so we rocketed down the street to find said boozery. Now that I think about it, driving to find booze may be worse than driving under the influence. In a panic, and at 11:40, my friend who needed the wine suggested we go to Wal-Mart. “Wal-Mart always sells alcohol; it’s like their main source of income!” So I raced to the local Wal-Mart, but I had no time to park, so I pushed my friend out of the truck so she could race in and buy the wine before midnight and I would park.
I get into the store and try to find my friend by calling her, but because my phone was broken, I had to resort to putting my phone on speakerphone and walk about like I was on a reality T.V. show. We reconvened by the candy, where she informed me that Wal-Mart does not sell alcohol. I looked at my watch. 12:02. Defeated, we grabbed a bottle of grape juice and decided to make compote the Mormon way.
We tracked through the aisles of the local grocery store looking for any trace of alcohol to no avail. We could find beer, but besides that, the only alcohol we could find was Listerine. I knew people who had cooked with wine before, so I decided to give a friend a call, but unfortunately enough for me, my phone decided to break, leaving me to yell into the receiver and the speaker working for every other word. “YOU KNOW, LIKE A LIQUOR STORE! WHAT? UTAH ONLY SELLS ALCOHOL AT STATE LIQUOR STORES? WELL WHERE IS ONE? WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR A THING YOU ARE SAYING AND I JUST NEED SOME BOOZE! YOU KNOW WHAT, MY PHONE IS BROKEN, AND CAN SOMEBODY ELSE CALL YOU AND GET DIRECTIONS?” By that time, the entire store had stopped their last minute, Saturday-night-before-the-Sabbath shopping and just stared, mouth agape, like cows in a pasture. “What? I just need some booze! Is that too much to ask?”
So we left to go to the state liquor store when I look at my truck’s clock. 11:34. It was time to beat the clock because there was no way that liquor stores would be open on a Sunday in Utah, so we rocketed down the street to find said boozery. Now that I think about it, driving to find booze may be worse than driving under the influence. In a panic, and at 11:40, my friend who needed the wine suggested we go to Wal-Mart. “Wal-Mart always sells alcohol; it’s like their main source of income!” So I raced to the local Wal-Mart, but I had no time to park, so I pushed my friend out of the truck so she could race in and buy the wine before midnight and I would park.
I get into the store and try to find my friend by calling her, but because my phone was broken, I had to resort to putting my phone on speakerphone and walk about like I was on a reality T.V. show. We reconvened by the candy, where she informed me that Wal-Mart does not sell alcohol. I looked at my watch. 12:02. Defeated, we grabbed a bottle of grape juice and decided to make compote the Mormon way.