G 'n' T

To me, one of the most relaxing activities I can partake in, is sitting and watching mindless television after an arduous day of dealing with the perils and annoyances of work and every day life. The people who walk far too slowly, the traffic lights that changed far too quickly, and those coffee breaks that never seem to last long enough; all scattered to the breeze when I trudge through the door, drop my keys on the kitchen table, and land with an exhausted plop into my chair. When my girlfriend and I are in the same state I have her smiling face to look forward too; but, alas when she and I are apart, what must I look forward to?
I prefer to enjoy an ice cold gin and tonic, or what I call a G 'n' T, in order to provide a mild reprieve from that achingly lonesome feeling. I don't have any rocks glasses in my piece of shit apartment and have had to settle for the feeling of cold sweating petroleum-based plastic containing my sacred elixir, and I have to say that I prefer it that way. So it goes, after I sit down and realize that it is only a matter of time before I become far too comfortable and that my ass will be permanently be rooted to the seat cushion, I make myself a drink. Upon fetching one of the spotted and scratched glasses from the cupboard, I remove a chrome shot glass from the drying rack next to the sink. After stooping low to my liquor cabinet, I remove a one liter bottle of Beefeater London Dry Gin from its spot next to the broken toaster that I refuse to throw away. At the site of the guard who is said to stand at the base of one of world's most infamous torture chambers, the Tower of London, my proverbial tail begins to wag and my mouth has started to water by the time I set the bottle down next to my glass. I fill up the glass with plenty of ice, because one can never have too much ice (unless maybe you're the Titanic) and begin my ritual of pouring one shot into the glass and watching the ice melt slightly on contact with the 80 proof colorless liquor. I give myself a second shot because I feel that I have been a good boy today (my God, I'm turning into a dog). I fill the glass up to the brim with cheap tonic water that I buy at the store for seventy cents for a two liter bottle and stand back to watch my creation. If I were Dr. Frankenstein I would not yet be shouting "It's alive" quite yet, as I have yet to add the final touch. Drum roll please! I present to you: the lime wedge. I cut huge slices from a fat dark green fruit and squeeze the succulent juice into the glass before dropping the lime itself into the brew. I feel as though the lime skin gives it that special aroma that makes the gin and tonic what it is meant to be: a truly relaxing experience. I have tried to substitute with lime juice from concentrate before and have only ended up with heartburn. So my friends remember this one rule: the lime makes the drink. Now finally it is finished.
I trudge back to my seat, drink in hand, with a little more spring to my step than five minutes prior. Upon reaching my throne upon which I am the ultimate authority I command that I not take one sip for at least fifteen minutes. In my opinion, the drink tastes better when the ice has melted and the lime has permeated throughout the volume. After the agonizing allotted time has ticked by I take the sweating glass, put it to my lips, and sip the sweet nectar descended from the chalice of Dionysus himself. Now I can finally relax and enjoy my lonely night. Cheers!
I shall let you all know that I am not an alcoholic and do not require professional help. I only seek to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. If you have had similar experiences or relaxing rituals of your own I invite you to share and if you have experienced something similar I invite you to say samesicle.