Day drunk

Smoothies are the sh*t and I refuse to believe otherwise. If you don't like cold, fruity, and just strong enough on a hot day in good, socially distant company, then close this page and rethink some life decisions (medical conditions exempt).

As with most foods and drinks in my life, proper application of the right alcohol elevates the whole dish (mug).

This straightforward recipe was born in my kitchen as a 5-minute liquid breakfast to satiate my hungry, lazy, butt until just before dinner, minus the liquor (most days). That's the extent of the cute story behind this recipe.

Neither family nor friends, acquaintances, locations, food pairings, or activities made a blip in my consciousness until after I poured the ___ into several promotional-sized mugs.

Here's what you'll need:

(yields about 2 cups)

• 1 banana
• 1/2 cup frozen strawberries
• 1/2 cup frozen pineapple chunks
• 2/3 cup cold water
• 1 scoop vanilla protein powder (or 1/4 tsp vanilla extract if you don't want the protein)
• 2 tbsp almond butter, homemade or store bought
• 6 medium-sized mint leaves
• 2-5 shots rum, tequila, vodka, or whiskey. They're all delicious, so use your favourite (or what you've got). Know yourself, know your company, and drink water if it's hot out - this blended beauty WILL f*ck you up past 5 shots.

Instructions:

It's a smoothie - don't overthink it.

1. In a blender, add water, the banana, protein powder, and almond butter. Blend just enough to incorporate the almond butter and protein powder into the now-mashed banana (skip this step if you're not using protein powder).
2. Drop everything not in the blender into the blender and blend until smooth! (Not too much or the heat from the blender's motor will give you a warm smoothie, and no one wants that.)
3. Send me some drunk DM's professing your undying love for this creation.

The fruits here are interchangeable. Strawberries, bananas, pineapple, mangoes, peaches, pears, apples, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries - they're all delicious in every combination. This smoothie is not "the best;" I love them all equally. It's basically blended fruit and liquor, it takes many bad decisions to ruin it.

That's really all I have to say about this smoothie, but submissions for Vocal's On the Rocks Challenge has a 600 word minimum, so here's a casino story for you to read in the shade with this smoothie in the other hand.

"I don't gamble"

A few summer's ago, my buddy Blair and I were driving up to his cottage, and we stopped at a casino on the way.

I'm not much of a gambler. I like blackjack because, on a zoned-in day, playing the odds is quite lucrative. But things like roulette and dice never appealed to me; too out-of-my-control. But this casino had no card tables, and the only passably analog roulette table had no open chairs.

We walk by as it spins in its 7-foot diameter bubble. I wheel round and round, looking for a machine that didn't seem strong enough to take my money. I park it in front of a glowing fridge with a screen and feed it a freshly unwrinkled fiver.

Dropping some dollars and cents around the board, I press 'Spin!' and launch the box into a seizure of flashing lights and colours.

The commotion dies down, and the pixels transform into a message:

"You Win $40!"

My eyebrows leaped up before my lips yoga'd through a smirk into a smile. I turn to tell Blair, but his eyes are back at the bubble. His concentration tells stories of psychic daggers and dreams.

I spin back and let the bet ride. More text:

"You Win $40!"

At this point, I need to test my luck. Fate is flowing and times are good, but who knows how long it'll last. I change my bets, adding $5 to the pot (that's $10 now).

The middle knuckle of my right hand raps the button:

"You Win! $3.25"

I chuckle and shrug my shoulders, "Ok." Time to go.

Back at the bubble

I stand up, turn around, and see Blair coming my way. I start laughing through an uncontrollable smile as I share with him this very same story.

"The machine just gave me eighty-three-twenty-five!"

"Oh shit, that's good."

I put a hand on Blair's shoulder and don my best impression of a shaman setting fate in motion: "Today is a good day."

"Oh ya. I'm still waiting for a chair, but I've played in my head and won some."

I point at two vacant faux leather bar stools, fresh with the scent of defeat. "Chairs!"

"Let's go."

I put my stub for $83.25 into the digital table. We play the table back and forth for about an hour. I'd won another $90 or so in that time. But you can never keep winning, just like you can never keep losing. Every reality we experience is temporary. I'd been on a hot streak, and knew to get out before the water cooled down. What's more, we're still a few hour's drive from the house.

"One more round, Paul?"

"Well, alright, but I'm all out of good bets to make, so ten on double zero!"

Perfectly content tipping the casino $10 as thanks for a fun afternoon, we wait for the final spin.

I'm not to excited, just waiting for the round to end so we can leave. The ball does its thing, spinning round and round. I watch with the calm of someone with no money on the board - the outcome didn't matter to me.

On the last rotation, the ball stops spinning and starts bouncing. I notice it getting closer to 00, but I refuse to get excited, even as the voice in my head starts chanting, "ohmygodohmygodohmygod."

The ball stops on 00 and I jump off the stool, laughing uncontrollably. I'd just doubled my winnings. Blair reminds me to simmer down, recognizing that the rest of the table just suffered what was, in all fairness, cosmic b.s.

I pipe down and motion my head towards the door. It's time to go. I walked in with $5 and walked out with around $250. That's a 5000% return. The rest of the weekend was on me.

We used Hennessy in our smoothies that night.