I can remember three instances in my sobriety where I've knowingly taken alcohol into my mouth or body, or at least I think I did:
1. Big swig of a glass of "water with ice" that my closet-alcoholic, secret-drinker father left on the back of the sink. Pure vodka. Spit that one out.
2. A couple of sips of an odd tasting "fruit drink" that we were given gratis at a restaurant in Buenos Aires. I had confirmed with the waiter - in my shitty Spanish - that the drink was alcohol free. "Totally alcohol free," he said confidently. Pause a beat . . . wait for it . . . "just a little champagne."
3. A mouthful of "rum" raisin ice cream that I bought in a little town in France. The small store had chocolate, vanilla, and rum raisin, and I was sick of the chocolate so I bought what I assumed was a non-alcoholic ice cream that might have a faint taste of synthetic flavoring in it. "Are you crazy?" SuperK asked when she saw the purchase. I tried a mouthful and spit it out immediately. I looked at the ingredients on the carton: 40% alcohol. The ice cream wouldn't even freeze, sloshing around in a semi-gelid state. Only in France can you buy 80 proof ice cream. It reminded me of the vending machines in Japan that had cans of beer available. I didn't even want the ice cream in our freezer so I tried to melt it with hot water in the sink. Fumes of alcohol, clouds of it, were choking me as I tried to clear the drain that was clogged with raisins. That was quite the scene.
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