Red Jacket Orchards Tart Cherry Stomp

When you grow up you unfortunately are supposed to leave childish things behind. Lighting things on fire, playing with dolls, brushing your teeth with chocolate syrup, and so on. That's kid stuff. You're an adult. You wear a tie three out of five days a workweek and the other two you wear collared, golf shirts. You drive a sensible sedan that gets adequate mileage and you have two kids, one wife, and a dog. Your life is...regular.

You every once in a while you get a hankering to change it up. Sensibly that is. Responsibly. You usually do this by doing something that no one can see or doesn't affect your appearance and doesn't have any consequences. Today you went to the store to get something to drink before work and you grabbed a cup of coffee and you came across it. There it was, very red and very inviting, like a trashy 80's harlot. I'm talking high-heeled red leather shoes, red lipstick, short red dress, and hair with more volume than a Poison concert. Red Jacket Tart Cherry Stomp. The name was fun, the ingredients were minimalistic and you love cherries.

You pay the cashier, walk out into the street, open the bottle, take a sip, and let out a loud, "Wooo!" that Rik Flair would have approved of. Your cheeks involuntarily sucked into your face and the smile on your face went all the way from cheek to cheek. This drink tasted just like it said, tart cherries. You turned around and your boss was right behind you. You, quick on your feet, handed your boss the bottle asking him to take a sip. He did and let out a less convincing but still heartfelt "Wooo!" and handed the bottle back. You both saw eye to eye at that moment and would occasionally let out a quiet holler in the halls of the office at each other. Your boss was now your bro, and that's cool. You're a cool dude. You blended in a little bit over the years, but you've still got it.