An old friend
Do you Zima?
Ten years ago or so, I used to drink Zimas quite a bit. I’m a girly-girl, I guess. I’ve never liked beer and I’m not keen on things like rum and Coke. Yet the stigma of wine coolers forced me to look elsewhere. There are always margaritas, daquiris and other frou-frou drinks, but when you’re at a party or hanging with friends, sometimes you want something a bit less high-maintenance. When the crisp, clear taste of Zima hit the market, I was more than ready.
Zima became my drink of choice when we would gather or even out at the bars. It was tasty, but low-key. Everyone else brought beer; I hefted my six-pack of Zimas (mind you, I only drank two, maybe three). One time at a bar, a friend of mine had the bartender spike a Zima with grenadine. I followed suit. The bright-red beverage in the bottle just looked kinda cool. So much so that people used to come up to me and ask me what I was drinking (some of the inquisitive were guys, which inspired me to continue the trend).
Eventually, my Zima drinking came to an end. I think it just didn’t agree with me. Somehow the clear beverage lost its appeal. I turned to hard cider and Mike’s when hanging with beer drinkers, frou-frou drinks when the bar had a blender. It’s all good.
Yet when picking up some libations for Laurel’s birthday last night, I by-passed the lemon and lime when the Zima XXX caught my eye. Hard Black Cherry. Sounded as good as a spiked lemonade to me. And it is. Especially sitting out on the deck, watching the sun float slowly toward the horizon. Definitely hits the spot.