(Day 20 Writing Assignment: For our final assignment, tell the tale of your most-prized possession.)
My Dad was having a few friends over for drinks that evening. It was early and I was just hanging out in the den while he sat on his desk preparing a song list for the night. All of a sudden he stood up, headed over to the bar and started to prepare what seemed to be a cocktail. I guess he couldn’t wait for his guests to arrive and wanted a head start. I slowly and hesitantly walked over to him. With what sounded like just a whisper, I sheepishly asked if I could stay and watch. Being the authoritarian father that he was, I expected him to growl at me and command me to go to my room. I was pleasantly surprised when he gave a quick, short nod instead.
I watched as he lined the top of his glass with the juice of a sliced lemon, then dunked it on a bed of salt. I was in awe at the sight of the neatly salt-lined rim of his glass and stared at it as if I was admiring a beautifully cut diamond. Then he took out a stainless steel cocktail shaker, poured various liquids in it and finally a couple of ice cubes. He gave it quite a shake and while doing so, I noticed that he was glancing at me perhaps amused at my reaction to the unusual noise. When the rattling was over, he poured everything into the glass and even at a tender age of 9, I thought it looked delicious. I was amazed at how he managed to leave the ice cubes in the shaker while the rest of its contents flowed smoothly into the salt-rimmed glass. He took a sip and raised his eyebrows in approval. He looked pleased with himself. Then he turned to me and asked, “Do you want to try it?” I was shocked at the offer, but my curiosity got the better of me and I nodded. He told me to make sure I took just a small sip. And just like that I met Margarita.
When I reached my adult years, I reconnected and made sure to keep in touch with Margarita. In fact we’ve become very good friends and I have actually made even more friends like her. One day, I came by Mom’s house for a visit. We were chatting and out of the blue I asked if Dad’s cocktail shaker was still around somewhere. She found it in his old bar and handed it to me.
I don’t have much of what my Dad used to own. I have never been the type to get too attached to things either, even for sentimental reasons. However, I have a strong tendency to latch on to certain memories, and my special introduction to Margarita tops my list.