We were sampling bourbons and pretending to be professional bourbon critics. My wife, at one point, took a sip and said, “It tastes like cherry and oak, with an earthy finish. And I detect a hint of …” she paused for dramatic effect, swishing the taste a little in her mouth “… cunt!”
We all laughed, but I noticed Julie looked at my wife in a different way after that. A certain glassy-eyed gaze, with a bit of a flare to her nostrils, like she couldn’t quite catch her breath.
