There are times when I have to confront complete ignorance—usually my own.
This particular conversation began with the question of how somebody might make a mixed drink using a watermelon and grain alcohol. That already sounds less like bartending and more like somebody accidentally inventing a tiki torch. With alcohol that strong, you might not even see the flame clearly.
That should have been the end of the discussion.
It was not.
Marty immediately decided to explain his own alleged Southern method of stirring the watermelon. I will not repeat the full technical description here, except to say that no legitimate bartending school would recognize it, and the watermelon was no longer fit for public consumption.
Then we started discussing the word “cocktail.”
“Maybe it comes from cock-a-doodle-doo,” somebody suggested. “Because when people get drunk, they start saying any old cock-a-doodle.”
That explanation is historically unsupported, but it may still be more dignified than the rest of the conversation.
From there, the discussion wandered through relationships, college social groups, people experimenting with their identities, and the pressure society puts on people to permanently define themselves before they have finished living. The most reasonable conclusion was simple: sometimes people need room to make mistakes, experiment, change their minds, and live their lives without everybody immediately forcing them into a box.
Naturally, that moment of maturity lasted only briefly.
We returned to the watermelon.
A large watermelon filled with liquid and grain alcohol would be heavy and awkward to move. Therefore, proper lifting technique would be required. Bend your knees. Support the weight. Do not twist your back.
Somebody then suggested mechanical assistance for the mixing process.
At that point, the watermelon would apparently not only be stirred but possibly frothed.
The conversation continued into the difference between working in adult entertainment as a controlled business decision and allowing the surrounding lifestyle to take control. One woman we remembered had traveled from Canada, worked, avoided the partying, saved her money, and intended to purchase property for her family. She treated the situation as a job with a specific goal.
That led to perhaps the only useful lesson produced during the entire discussion:
It is one thing to play the game. The trouble begins when the game starts playing you.
As for the grain-alcohol watermelon, the official recommendation is not to light it, do not attempt Marty’s stirring method, lift with your knees, and under no circumstances allow it to froth.
I’m sorry, Marty.
Actually, no. This was mostly your fault.