Have you ever met someone and thought, You are a caricature of a human?
I met one such gentleman in Chania, Crete.
He was a restaurant owner with homemade Raki. And his homemade Raki was better than the store made kind. His version of the traditional liquor didn’t have the terrible burn of the types the husband and I had sampled before.
The restaurant owner was about in his fifties, the cheerful silver fox type, and liked to lure people into his restaurant by offering them free shots of his Raki. It worked. Between the yummy Raki and beautiful live music, the husband and I were hooked.
The thing is, he’d do a shot with you. And with the next people who came into the restaurant. And with the people who agreed to get up and dance. And with the couple who ordered dessert.
We tried to count, and he took like fourteen shots while we were eating dinner. And the man was still standing! I don’t even know how that’s possible!
There was another English-speaking couple sitting behind us, and they finally asked how many shots he usually took in a night.
His response: “It depends.”
Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like fourteen shots is a normal night! And he wasn’t taking shots of water on the sly. Everything was being poured out of the same Coke bottle.
So there are a few choices:
He’s had so much Raki, his body now thinks liquor is water.
He’s about to die of liver failure.
He’s actually an alien.
Really, when you think about it, the alien option starts to make sense. Because that dude was still standing when we left, and that is beyond the human capacity for alcohol consumption.