For no apparent reason other than maybe a subconscious longing for carefree college summers, the grape ape has been on my mind lately.
I’m not kidding.
When I’m in the mood for a cocktail at the bar, I lack the confidence of a signature drink and usually spend five to ten minutes consulting with my cohorts or weighing the merits of tequila versus vodka (tequila usually wins) or purusing the cocktail list, if there is one. So maybe it was in the context of that dilemma that my love of purple, sugar-laden grape apes at The Corner Bar or Sgt. Preston’s came to me in utmost clarity. Not necessarily a good thing, when we’re talking about college flashbacks.