Deadwood: Drinking Dame’s Edition
Having watched HBO’s Deadwood to the point of time singularity—am watching Deadwood, have watched Deadwood, will be watching Deadwood—with Maddi (resident and residential partner in Westerns and boozecrime), I am starting to sense its effect on our lives. It’s done the obligatory wear and tear on my cocksuckin’ loquacity, and I blame it, tacitly, for the $60 bottle of bourbon that’s now resting thronelike on top of our fridge. Which is going to get used. I mean, we could just drink it, but what fun would that be? No: we are two girls with a feel for booze and a date with Deadwood and an all-consuming speaking memory of the show, and we can do one better. And seeing as it’s a good show for community and drinks, without further ado, I’d like to invite you into A VERY DEADWOOD COCKTAIL CABINET: cobbled together by two girls with one liquor cabinet and one thoroughly-worn DVD set, it serves as a primer to everyone you need to know.
- ALMA GARRET – Widow Jane bourbon, Firefly sweet tea vodka, St. Germain, French berry lemonade. Fruity, girly, delicious, the kind of drink that calls for a pretty glass, the kind of drink that will leave you legless if you drink it too quick and don’t think about what you’re doing. In accordance with how yours-truly watches the show, I definitely put the most thought into this one. (Bury me shouting about the way Molly Parker delivers monologues in that sinuous whisper of hers. I mean, I do that fully sober.)
- TRIXIE – Cranberry juice, Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey, heavyhanded slug of cranberry vodka. Tart and harsh enough to cut through that sweet, never you mind that you can taste the sweet all the same.
- JOANIE STUBBS – French lemonade (limonade, the fizzy stuff) and Tennessee Honey. We may make these forever. They are softly Southern-sweet and have a weird lovely refinement for all their low-maintenance making; basically, the martini-glassed equivalent of those dainty gold boots she wears.
- CALAMITY JANE – Pick up bottle of Widow Jane. Put mouth to neck of bottle of Widow Jane. Glug.
- MARTHA BULLOCK – Make yourself an Arnold Palmer with sweet tea and nice lemonade. You’re the designated driver, or at least subway-handholder. You might be surrounded by children, but you know everyone knows you’re the best, right?
- DOLLY - Strawberry Fanta and Tennessee Honey. For when you have nothing in the fridge but strawberry Fanta and Tennessee Honey.
- AUNT LOU – Apple cider, apple cider moonshine, served warm.
- MADDIE – Take the biggest bottle of whiskey in the room. Smash it over the head of the drunkest person in the room. Run.
- FLORA – Take the smallest bottle of whiskey in the room. Smash it over your own head. Run.
- JEWEL – Bartender’s choice. Every sip a fuckin’ adventure.
- AL SWEARENGEN – Irish coffee, made with Basil Hayden, rather than Jameson
THE GEM (OR, “DUCKLINGS”) – Ask whomever’s making an Al Swearengen to pour you a shot. Order in pairs. Whoever asks watches the other one get poured for first.
JOHNNY BURNS – And you spill your shot when you get it.
- THE HARDWARE GUYS – Drink whatever you’ve got in the fridge—beer, basically (or in our fridge, cider). You’re not so fussy, nor so blitzed. Point is, utility. Bottle, though, no cans.
SETH BULLOCK is when you keep the cap in your hand. Increasingly upset/overcome by the unblunted force of your feelings, you tighten your grip on that cap, tighter and tighter until you reach your inevitable tipping point, at which point, you will, inevitably, THROW THAT CAP AS HARD AS YOU CAN!!
SOL STAR is when you don’t do that.
- CY TOLLIVER – Bourbon-centric fishbowl. (Ideas: Jack, Coke, Jack Honey, Goldschlager, peach Absolut, apricot brandy, regular brandy, pineapple juice, sweet tea, sweet tea vodka, the desired result is basically a slightly-fancified disaster that will make you feel like you’ve been punched in the head repeatedly when you wake up the next morning.)
- E.B. FARNUM – Absinthe sugar cubes in swamp water (not literally)
RICHARDSON – Sugar cubes in swamp water (maybe literally)
- WILD BILL HICKOCK – Take yourself on a solo stroll to the nearest bar. Ask for a free shot. Receive one. In the head.
- BROM GARRET – Pour shot of whiskey. Sip it. Spit it discreetly into the sink (probably not your hand).
- ANDY CRAMED – Take the Cy Tolliver fishbowl. Drink the whole thing. Before you pass out, attempt to recite the entire Bible from memory.
- DOC COCHRAN – You cannot drink. You have tuberculosis.
- REVEREND SMITH – You fall over. Are you even drunk?
- MERRICK - Make yourself hot chocolate. Make it in a stein. Doctor it with an infinitesimal, untasteable amount of liquor. At the end of the night, inform everyone you can walk in a steady circuit around the room. Demonstrate.
BLAZONOV – Get yourself a shot of vodka. Realise there’s nothing to put it in except a Merrick-sized stein. You might as well clink glasses with that guy.
- WU – Everyone is yelling at you to make sake bombs. Fuck these guys.
- GEORGE HEARST – You take everyone else’s booze. You don’t even drink it.