Every New Year's Eve since Mr. Z and I have been together
he has forced me we have had champagne at mid-night.
Neither one of us care for champagne but it's a tradition. We take a sip and either give the rest away or pour it out.
It has been Mr. Z's mission the past few years to find a really good champagne that we would like. You see, in most areas we have high-dollar taste. I mean take us to any store and we unintentionally pick the very most expensive thing in the entire place. However, when it comes to wine or champagne, we have very cheap taste.
Two years ago, in his search to find us a champagne that we might not mind drinking, he found one flavored blood orange. At mid-night we popped it open, poured two glasses, and took sips. I was anticipating fighting a big urge to spit it out. I sipped and there was not gag reflex. I actually wanted another sip.
We looked at one another and poured ourselves some more. After the second glass, Mr. Z said we might need to know how much alcohol was in it before we get tipsy.
There is was. Our reason we liked it so much.