Blackberry Margarita Pie / Why I Only Eat Tequila

You will see me enjoying the occasional Margarita, usually, I get halfway down and that’s it I am done. It takes about that long for that familiar tequila taste to stir up memories of the night the lights went on in the Rawhide. 

It all started as a normal day in my 20’s. I woke up just past noon and realized I had the night off. This meant I needed to search out friends who had also been granted freedom. As was the norm in New Orleans back then we didn’t start calling around, you just headed for your favorite watering holes passing your friends houses along the way, It never failed, there would be a day drinking buddy somewhere waiting for their partner to arrive. It was our version of two people running toward each other in a flower covered field. After a few tries, I found him. He was sitting on his porch sipping a cocktail, our gaze met and we knew “You!, you would be my partner in bad decisions today." It was a dear friend of mine who happens to be a gay man with a fair amount of tequila at his disposal. 

At first, I balked at the drink choice. After much goading and peer pressure he convinced “ To have just a little bit” You see I am not a big drinker of hard liquor, never have been. My friends are very aware that not only does it hit me faster than them it also destroys any small amount of filter or decision making skills I possess. I don’t enjoy the day after a liquor-filled night but they very much enjoy my antics when I am full tequila beast mode. 

All he had to do was keep feeding the monster and then let her free from the porch and the games begin. I don’t remember too much from that day that turned to night but I do remember how it ended. We had somehow slowly drunk our way through the French Quarter and ended up at the Rawhide which for those of you that don’t know is gay leather/bear bar. Always dimly lit and barely a female in there. We saunter in (let's be honest I bet I was way past sauntering at that point). In my mind, we politely ordered a drink and sat at the bar having a pleasant conversation. In reality, I am pretty sure it didn’t happen that way.

If an outside observer described it I would bet it goes a little bit more like this. So this drunk obnoxious loud twenty-something lady just comes barreling into what is very obviously a bar catering to gay men with an equally drunk friend following behind her. She stands up hands on hips makes an aggravated face and makes a comment on how “ There are no women here, why is it so damn dark” and then proceeds to the bar. Once she has pushed her way through the crowd muttering profanities under her breath, she proceeds to yell at her bartender friend at the top of her lungs “MIchael!, Michaeeellll!!” Her friend leans over to warn her that she is aggravating the actual bar patrons and may want to tone it down. Seems he has noticed the glares and aggravation building around them. Not her though, she is steadfast in getting her friends attention. No care that he is working and serving a packed house. Michael heads over giving her the “Hey it is nice you came to visit here's a drink now kindly take your drunk lady ass out of here” look. Deciding that isn’t enough for her she leaps up over the bar grabs him and gives a big ole kiss right in front of the whole bar. This does not go over well with the patrons and an argument ensues. Since her tequila-fueled monster only see a red flag being waved in front of her face she does not back down and starts yelling back. At this point, the manager has decided to control the situation and asks her and her friend to leave. With the smallest shred of decency left in her, she does realize that staying and causing trouble at a friends work is not the best idea they agree to go. 

But wait, that's not the end of the story. As they head to the door the monster returns in full force. She runs back to the bar grabs a stool and proclaims “ Fine but I am taking this with me”. Her and her stolen stool run toward the door fleeing the throngs of leather-clad men that have had enough of her bullshit. Does she head home? No. She places the stool in the middle of the street and sits her happy ass on it and proceeds to yell at passers-by, joined by her also ousted friend. “Who did you take to prom?” “ Who helped you hide in the closet?” “ Your just mad I have ovaries” “ Vagina Haters” “Vaginas made you” and on and on. 

I would like to think that none of this happened but the next morning when I woke up with a splitting headache and cradling a strange stool says that it did. I have had some embarrassing nights but this one took the cake. Why would I even go into a gay, men's leather bar and expect women to be there? How could I kiss my friend who makes money off making drinks and flirting with patrons to make them feel wanted and more apt to tip well? I do the same thing as a profession I know better. Then I did the worst I shamed a group of people for not wanting me. Yeah,it was because I am a female not because I was a drunken fool that went around stealing bar furniture. Or the fact that I was sitting in the middle of the street yelling at them that they hate vaginas, No way that could be the reason they were annoyed with me. Just a bunch of guys out on the town looking to unwind in a non judgmental environment, only to be met with. A snotty drunk white girl who was angry she got kicked out of a bar for acting like a jack ass.

So to anybody who was there that night. I am sorry. I acted like a complete ass and have regretted so much that to this day I still can’t drink tequila. I will never let that monster free again, it has been caged for 20 years and there it will stay just sitting on its stool brooding over all the good times it has lost. 

This is why I can only eat tequila and in pie form. This pie is as close to a margarita I will ever let myself near again. So eat responsibly and don’t go stealing stools and yelling at gay men who are just trying to enjoy an evening out.

Blackberry Margarita Pie (1).numbers
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