You’d think that any self-respecting university gentleman with underdeveloped maturity would leap at the opportunity to quaff drinks whose namesake is inexplicably linked to the male anatomy. But the simple logic of this assumption has failed to take into account an unspeakable force – anti-cocktail peer pressure.
Men in Evil Eye unsuccessfully attempt to thwart their salivation over the nostalgically sweet aroma of strawberry and silky decadence of crème de cacao. They repress the pitiful pleas of their neglected taste buds in order to appease that unworthy master, barley, that has a tenacious chokehold on these poor students’ evening of liquid refreshment.
Why not take up pitchforks in rebellion against this tyrant? Because each citizen is scared that their flatmate is truly loyal to Barley’s regime, and will report their illegal conduct to the brotherhood. The price of treachery against the principles of light brown monotony is public ridicule. The crowds hurl tomatoes, lock you in the stocks, evict you from their tenancy, all for a mere cup of that ambrosial nectar – the Pina Colada!
This is obviously a slight exaggeration. But the sad truth remains that a lot of guys are missing out on the joys of cocktails because of the tragic pressure to conform to the masculinity of beer, clinging to its sole charms of affordability and availability in handy six-packs. But realistically, in comparison to a Daiquiri it tastes like urine and contains a laughable alcohol percentage.
So tell me, who’s the enduring cinematic epitome of sophistication, bar brawls and sex appeal? James Bond – a respected ambassador for his gender. Hey, what’s his favourite drink? Of course that trademark cocktail – shaken not stirred. Does he glance around furtively before ordering his Martini? Does he compromise on flavour? No. Bond’s been around, knows what’s good, and gets exactly what he wants.
So, next time you’re out with the lads, break free from your dull restraints, reinvent the contemporary university male’s social conventions! Channel the refinement of Don Draper using the rugged strength of gin, vermouth and whisky. I’m not forcing anyone to embrace the (delightful) triviality of sparklers and pink umbrellas – I’m merely pleading that you expand your horizons to embrace the sultry, and assuredly androgynous, art form. that is the concocting of the cocktail.