Why everyone thinks I just love Fireball
At one of the first shows I played, my band all went up to the bar together to get a shot at our first break. I am not much of a drinker and wasn’t sure what to order.
One of the guitar players ordered a “slippery nipple”. I was aware of what that was and it sounded pretty good to me. I’ve had it before and it was indeed tasty. I decided that is what I would order too.
After he ordered it the rest of the band was giving him all sorts of grief.
“You sure you don’t want to order a second for your vagina?”
“Don’t forget the umbrella!”
“Lame!”
“What would you like?” The waitress asked looking at me.
I was a bit nervious at this point. I looked past her and noticed a poster on the wall that read “Fireball sold here”.
I replied in the most deepest manly voice I could muster. “FIREBALL!”
“That’s more like it!” One of the guys said.
“Make that 2!” Another one shouted.
Everyone was clapping and cheering. It felt good!
From that night forward it became the band drink. Fans would bring up trays of shots to the band during our shows. I always drank them, but I did not enjoy it. Nope, fireball is not a drink I care for. I played along nicely though. Every time I took the shot I imagined it was one of those delious slippery nipples. It’s nice to be nice.
