4:30 p.m. Just got back from an afternoon field trip to the Sigel's liquor store at Cole and Fitzhugh avenues with Bobsky, 'cause when Bobsky says, "Grimes, let's drink," there's nothing to do but grab one's purse and traveling hat and follow the man in the motorcycle boots to the parking garage.
4:33 p.m. Bobsky appears at my door with two shot glasses and some ice water.
4:34 p.m. We take two shots of Lucid, the completely legal wormwood absinthe I've been trying to get my hands on for weeks.
4:40 p.m. It's already kicking in, I think, courtesy of the very-Lean and not-so-Cuisine I had for lunch.
4:46 p.m. I have jiggly legs and a new expensive habit.
Lucid rings up around $70 per bottle, but it's the middle-priced brand of the green fairy's favorite drink currently available to American absinthe fans. See The New York Times for an excellent compare-and-contrast review of Kubler Absinthe, Lucid, and St. George.
4:50 p.m. From next door, Bobsky: "Wow. I've forgotten a phone number that I know by heart."
Newly legal but forever delicious, absinthe is the recent subject of all kinds of interesting articles on teh Internets right now. When I first heard about the lift on the ban a few months ago, after a friend slipped me some of the green stuff in a Tupperware container smuggled in from Prague, I was mad to find some here in the U.S. and A. I called the Goody Goody Liquor store on Oak Lawn near the office, but they told me it was still illegal and all but hung up on me. I gave up my search, figuring I'd have to wait to get some once I'd moved down to Austin. S'what the Lucid Web site told me, anyway: Dallas, outta luck.
If only I had known that a quick jaunt to Uptown and "Do you guys have absinthe?" could solve my world's problems. Bobsky and I bought the last two bottles, far as I know. But I'm sure they'll be getting some more in soon.
High five, Sigel's on Fitzhugh and Cole. Thanks for giving me wings. Dallas, I invite you to fly with us. The skies are nothing but friendly. --Andrea Grimes
