Non-Alcoholic Drinking Games are Trending

[Bad] Ideas | Scriptdog


A Zero-Proof gathering of friends not to be forgotten (unfortunately)
Zero Alcohol content | Photo by Wine EnthusiastWikimedia Commons

When people say they don’t drink, the Dadster in me wants to say “You must be thirsty” or “Don’t get dehydrated” or “How the heck aren’t you dead?”

Of course you drink. At some point “I don’t drink” became short hand for “I don’t drink alcohol.” I like to say “I don’t eat” when people offer me anything green and healthy. What I’m really saying is “I don’t eat alcohol.” It’s okay if you’re not following me yet, by the end of this recap of our Virgin C0cktail night, nobody will be following me.

I asked five of my friends over for a get-together and asked each to arrive with a non-alcoholic drink of their own making, and enough to serve to the group.

I’m not a big drinker. Used to be, but then college ended. I think it ended. I don’t remember much.

I had a “best bud” who would tell me if we had a good time on our nights out and he’d laugh at how I would do things like break my fall with my eyeglasses (while still wearing them).

One thing I clearly didn’t learn at U of M was the definition of a “best bud”.

I’ve heard about non-alcoholic bars and clubs popping up and I like the idea. When you don’t drink (alcohol) your options are limited. There are NA beers, wines, ciders. There’s water, sodas…there’s not always iced tea, and, less commonly, lemonade. You can order mixers on the rocks. And there are usually a few mocktails kicking around.

The idea that a mixologist can whip something complex together for you that’s without booze is kinda cool.

And these Zero Proof places don’t make me feel out of place if I’m not strapping on a buzz.

My Friends and Their Drinks
Dippity Doo DrinkHenry

Henry M. | Hair Product Mogul

Okay, so I call this the Dippity Doo. It’s pink from watermelon juice. It’s equal parts that and unsweetened ginseng tea, with a dash of bitters, dash of green olive juice and a sprinkle of Cardamom. [Tasting verdicts are below.]
Return for DepositWikiMedia Commons

BOB S. | Military and Exec at Coca Cola Bottling, Detroit

Left rudder 70 degrees.

(Bob has a verbal tick from his pilot days; has nothing to do with his drink recipe.)

I call my drink the Return for Deposit because after you taste it you’re gonna want to return again and again and deposit more and more of it into your mouth.
It’s got equal parts Coke Zero and Tab (remember Tab?, I got a garage full of it), with Banana Yogurt, two spoonfuls, a squirt of honey and some grape juice. I garnish it with a slice of banana and a sprig of rosemary.
Sounds horrendous, Henry said.
Be nice, I said.
Rosemary? And Banana?
It was a late addition. A good luck garnish. A grace note, Bob said.
Here comes the judgeUnsplash

Nancy A. | Attorney

I made three versions of what I call Exhibit A: Here Comes the Judge.
Why not call them Exhibits A, B and C? Bob asked.
Well, that’s not what they are.
Right rudder fall back, we’re climbing.
Henry thought he was coming to her defense:
You know when we launch a new styling product, we have versions, too. Sometimes we get up into the fifties or sixties for the slightest variations on a basic chemical formula. Like blind taste tests.
For hair gel? Bob asked.
Look, I’m trying to build a rapport with her. Nancy, Nancy is it?
Hi, yes.
Bob, I’ve never met Nancy before and clearly she’s nervous.
I’m not nervous.
Well, I thought I’d find a conversational way to support your dumb idea of having three versions of Exhibit A instead of going with A, B and C.
Henry! I blurted.
You just called her dumb.
I said her idea was dumb. Then, to Nancy: I’m sure you’re not dumb.
Did you put any hair gel in your Dippity Doo drink? Bob asked.
Who puts banana yogurt with rosemary? Henry lashed back.
My wife added that from our garden. It’s about the aroma.
Oh, blame your wife. I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear.
Guys, let Nancy tell us about Exhibit A, I suggested.
Nancy continued to present: It’s the only solid black drink you’ll ever have. I want you to think of a judge’s black robe. Once you have a sip, you’ll understand why. You’ll be asking to be put in solitary confinement to be alone with the magic this drink puts inside you.
Looks like black oil.
Or Ink.
I have three versions. One is lighter and one is heavier, the middle one is a balance, like the balance of Justice.
Got it, Bob said. (He didn’t get it.)
I give you Exhibit A. She set out three glasses, rolled them each in a plate of sugar and poured into each from a carafe.
The base is a non-alcoholic Cabernet darkened with edible dye pellets.
They’re all the same?
Hold on.

At this she removed a dropper and proceeded to put drops into each of the glasses. Then a second dropper which she used to add to only two glasses. Then a third dropper for just one glass.

What’s the drops?
They all have THC, these two have mescaline, and this one has a new psychotropic a client gave me.

Either intentionally or subconsciously, everyone listening to Nancy present her mixologist magic took a step back and shot glances around to the others.

…the f*^ck?
I’m good.
I think you missed the point of all this.
There’s no alcohol.
Yeah, but.

I shifted focus to the last remaining guest.

Clara, what did you bring?
The Salt GoodmanAdobe

CLARA B | Data Entry Person

I have no idea why I am here. I actually like drinking. Drinking alcohol. I’ll drink all three of Nancy’s.
I brought what I found in my pantry which isn’t bad. I mixed the oil from the top of a jar of peanut butter with marinara sauce and just added salted water. It’s pretty tasty. I call it Grandma’s Period. No wait, that’s not what it is, I call it Grandma’s — wait, that’s something else, this has nothing to do with my grandma. I call it The Salt Goodman, like Better Call Saul, but instead with Salt.

Clara had pre-gamed with shots of Fireball before coming over.

Gaining angles on a dogfight.
Bob was back at it, arms out to his sides flying around Clara now.
Straffing in 3…2…
Bob, knock it off, I said.
Boom and Zoom, throttle down, we are no longer on a base recovery course.
The Insulin BusterAuthor

My Entry | Numbskull

I kept my concoction pretty simple. It was my top three favorite tastes blended into one. Part maple syrup, part melted cinnamon ice cream and part Rootbeer! Hella tasty. I call it The Insulin Buster. Comes with a sugar coma kicker.
The winning non-alcoholic drink is...Adobe

And the Winner is…

Aside from Exhibit A: Here Comes the Judge, which Nancy had already poured out in small shot glasses for the rest of us, we now needed to serve the drinks.

I had an array of tumblers and other glassware out. A bucket of ice. Even additional garnishes and mixers if anyone wanted.

Henry poured a round of his pink Dippity Doo, Bob his Return for Deposit, Clara her Salt Goodman and I my Insulin Buster.

The unanimous winner was Henry’s Dippity Doo. Apparently, his experience as someone who mixes things, albeit chemical compounds for hair, transferred nicely to the NA world of drinks.

There was no second place.

From blech to however you spell the sounds of gagging and choking, reactions were pretty sour. {Mine was palatable, but more as a smoothie than a Virgin C0cktail.}

Clara and Nancy enjoyed the later’s stash of THC and whatever else she was dropping.
Henry gloated and explained the fine art of extracting watermelon juice from a watermelon.
Bob had brought a bottle of Crown Royal which he was secretly sipping all night and crash landed into my couch.

All in all it was the kind of evening none of us will forget. Which is unfortunate, because had we been drinking, none of us would have remembered that Bob blamed his wife for adding the Rosemary which led to a fight the next day when Henry brought it up saying that it really did clash with the banana.

Kicking tires and lighting fires. Touch and go. I repeat, we are touch and go!
Going downUnsplash

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Writer, Director, Producer of TV, Film and Stand-Up Comedy Tours in the MENA region and Asia. Writer's Guild, Director's Guild and Producer's Guild member. WARNING: Microdosing content will shift paradigm.

West Hollywood, CA

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