Due to some strange state liquor laws and my preference for wine, it has been a while since I’ve had a Long Island Iced Tea. In fact, the last time I had one in this state was the first time I had one in this state, at a gay bar on the West side of town almost 20 years ago. Since then, a strange tornado blew that bar down, something conservatives in this town believe was, “an act of God.”
I don’t agree with this or most of the beliefs in this town. That bar was one of my favorite places to bump and not grind.
Twenty years later and I’m still hitting the gay bars (not all of them blew down) on the West side of town, usually with Tree by my side. This last time, I decided to do as I did twenty years ago and enjoy a Long Island Iced Tea.
While it quenched my thirst at the time, less than six hours later I realized that, although a registered organ donor, I may no longer be able donate my liver to anyone. Regardless of whether it was Robert ‘Rosebud’ Butt or ‘Old Man Bishop’ who invented the Long Island Iced Tea, in an attempt to remain on the donor list, I’m hopping on the next Hampton Jitney out of ‘Long Island.’