Bartender

Or rather, why I'm not a bartender.  You know you've seen them--movies, videos, podcasts of bartenders shaking drinks and straining them out, perfectly chilled, into cocktail glasses.  I found a recipe that sounded tasty, I had all the ingredients, and I follow directions fairly well.  It's amazing the things that can hang you up.

I muddled the lemon, gently crushed the sage, added the tequila, honey, water, and ice.  I put to top on the shaker and started shaking.  I shook until the metal was frosty.  I attempted to take the shaker apart.  It wouldn't budge.  I waited a bit and tried again.  Nothing.  My ice was melting and diluting the drink.  I tried again.  I looked up "stuck bar shaker" on Google.  (Google is my friend.)  One suggestion was to whack it on a fence, but that seemed to have a high chance of disaster.   

 

I settled on the roll and jiggle method which was potentially messy, but glass shards wouldn't be flying at me.  I rolled and jiggled and rolled some more.  After a while, I gave up.  I walked away, played a little WOW (World of Warcraft, if you don't know) and let the ice melt.  Later,  I used my hands to warm the metal part of the shaker.  I rolled and jiggled again.  I heard a tiny little hiss.  I rolled and jiggled and there was a faint popping noise.  Finally, I was able to pull the top off and strained it into the glass.

There is no picture of the finished drink, garnished with a sprig of sage.  It was all warm and diluted and yucky and by now it was bedtime.  Maybe one day I'll try it again.  Well, actually, I won't.  I threw the recipe away.  It's really pretty clear that the universe didn't want me to try that drink and I think I'll listen.