A co-worker recently returned from a vacation back home in Mexico. During her stay, she had asked me if I wanted her to bring me anything back. I light-heartedly said "A bottle of Tequila!"
When I was 18 and thought I was invulnerable, I helped another friend finish a bottle of Mescal right down to the worm at the bottom of the bottle, chasing with beer all the way. I thought I was such a he-man as I giggled and wobbled my way home, walking from False Creek across the Granville Street bridge.
Twenty years later, and I'm proud to say that I have a low tolerance for alcohol, and could not (and wouldn't want to) tackle a bottle of Tequila the way I did when I was a stupid, cocky young lad :)
Having said all that, the woman who bought me the bottle as a souveinir is a total sweetheart, with the best intentions. She took me at my word, presenting me with almost a full litre of Tequila this morning at my desk. I thanked her profusely for such an extravagant gift, which would have cost me an arm and a leg if bought here at a Government Liquor Store. I believe it's much less expensive in Mexico, but nonethess, a very considerate and nice thing for her to do.
Here's the punchline:
I grab this huge square one-litre bottle and jam it in my shoulder bag for the trip home, but it won't fit - something is blocking the way. I reach into my bag and pull out the offending item - the large Bible I have been studying in preparation for going to see "The Passion of the Christ".
A Bible and a litre of Tequila. Boy - talk about your clash of ideologies. Talk about your cognitive dissonance. That's some kind of bag o' conflict right there...