 Some people like Friday or Saturday. I like Wednesday. Well, not every Wednesday – the Wednesday when I hear glasses clinking on the other side of the cubicle and smell popcorn wafting down the hallway at the end of the workday. This is usually preceded by the note we all wait for – Whiskey Wednesday. Usual spot. Sometimes a coworker has returned from a trip – most commonly Ireland – with a bottle of whiskey, or someone has a favorite bottle they want to share. Other times we pool our money and send someone to the liquor store. Then several of us from the office who enjoy whiskey gather in the usual spot, grab ice from the bucket if wanted, and pour a taste or two. We even have a set of whiskey glasses, thanks to our super-organized organizer, Rachel. The instigator of the Whiskey Wednesday will talk about the whiskey they have chosen, which sometimes involves a personal story and sometimes just involves reading the back of the bottle. Popcorn is a tradition. The talk goes from work to whiskey to life as the afternoon sinks lower. Non-whiskey drinkers are welcome and often join for the snacks, but it is the core of whiskey drinkers who linger. This isn’t a Mad Men moment when a drink is poured to talk business – for this gathering, the business is the whiskey. And before you imagine me with a bunch of guys, it’s really a mix and is organized by women. We usually have just one bottle, but we have been known to have two, or even three, different ones to taste. Three of us happened to have a bottle to share last week: I brought Bernheim – a delightful wheat whiskey by Heaven Hills. I call this my Hurricane Whiskey because it is the bottle I chose to stock for the (non)Hurricane Irene. It is light on the tongue with a good, round flavor, and a warm little after-burn on the throat.  One of my coworkers often finds a good Scotch to share – this time Glen Garioch, with not much peat and a tinge of sweetness that went over very well with even the whiskey newcomers.
And another brought in a nice, large bottle of classic Jack Daniel’s. The accomplishment was actually getting the bottle to work. Last time, she sadly discovered that paper bags sometimes cannot contain Jack, and Jack slipped out of the bag and spread out all over the sidewalk, to the delight of pigeons everywhere, but the sadness of whiskey Wednesday-ers. This time, we got our Jack and it rounded our holiday trio. Some of us tried one. Others tried all three. Hopefully no one had to go back to work. Comments are closed.
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