An Open Letter To My Old Friend, Jose Cuervo, On Cinco De Mayo

by Ashley Fern

Dr. Jose,

I can call you Jose, right? I feel like I can refer to you by your first name given how close we've become through these past few years.

Our relationship first began during my sophomore year in college (yes, underage drinking -- sue me), in this beautiful Mexican city called Acapulco. It was spring break, so you know tequila was the only way to go.

I drank you: out of a shot glass, off my best friend's stomach, from the bottle, through a funnel and via a spray bottle. I didn't care what medium brought us together, so long as it did. That week was one of the best times of my life and I owe it all to you, Jose Cuervo.

We continued our close relationship as we celebrated my 21st birthday together -- although I don't remember a second of it.

However, judging by the photos and multiple battle wounds, I could only image it was a great f*cking time. You stuck by my side when my boyfriend got tired of dealing with my drunken self. You never passed judgment. In fact, you did quite the opposite -- you encouraged me to keep drinking.

Somehow I survived that and our relationship only grew from there. Jose, you were behind the best nights and the worst mornings of my life.

Since the beginning of our beautiful relationship, I never had a "drunk" cry again, as the buzz you elicit is only that of happiness.

There's really nothing like the smell of tequila at 8:30 am on a game day. You singlehandedly managed to turn a four-hour long sporting event that I struggle to follow, into one of the best day ragers of my entire life -- and one that would compete with any night out on the town.

You made me look forward to sporting events, something I never experienced before. Your presence basically made every little thing just that much better.

You eased the pain of my breakup that you inadvertently caused, but I'll forgive you because that's just how our relationship works. It's okay because it reinforced other friendships -- and aren't those worth more, anyway?

The bond we have really redefines the meaning of a love/hate relationship -- love you all night, hate you all morning.

But isn't that how the best relationships are? No? Whatever, that's what I'll keep telling myself. Thanks to you, I really mastered the art of rationalization -- a skill I will always hold near and dear to my heart.

You were always there by my side, something I can't say for everyone in my life. You were there at 6 am on commencement day when I was still unsure if I would graduate from college or not and you were there four days later when I found out I would receive my diploma. You have been with me through the good times and the bad.

I took our relationship to a new level when I entered the real world, holding you close by when I ventured out into adulthood.

This was a far different place than college and, unfortunately, our ridiculous nights had to be reevaluated.

No longer was it acceptable for us to walk home sans shoes at 4 am together and it was definitely no longer okay to drink you straight from the bottle -- a lesson I clearly learned the hard way.

We still have our late nights together, although we've substituted Jimmy John's for dollar slices  -- it's something I would never change. I cherish our time together and on your special day, I just wanted you, Jose, to know the influence you've had on my life.

Only for you would I sacrifice my after-work routine to celebrate, especially on a Monday. But cheers to you, Jose, and here's to many, many more memorable and not-so memorable nights to come.

Love always,


Photo via I Hate Flash