Why Our World Would End if Whisky Disappeared

Why The World Would End If Whisky Disappeared

Whisky creates a sense of community. If people didn’t come together, then the world would be doomed. I was recently reminded of how whisky connects people.     

It started when my flatmate and I decided to have a traditional British BBQ. A British BBQ is an annual event to celebrate the British Summer, my favourite day of the year. The British come together to celebrate our hot days with as much gusto as zoos celebrate pandas mating. It happens about as often.

My flatmate and I run in different circles. His friends are the posh sort. They wear pastel chinos with threadbare shirts that cost almost as much as their ‘Beats By Dre’ headphones. His friends came together with mine, who were more dully dressed. I didn’t know his friends very well. And I didn’t like them very much.

Are you sober enough for single malt scotch whisky?

We all a lot of damage to the three mini-kegs of Hobgoblin Ale and played a few rounds of beer pong. But then I turned to two of my friends and whispered ‘are you sober enough for a cheeky whisky?’

While they said ‘of course,’ it was unlikely they were. But it seemed like a good idea at the time. The four of us spirited ourselves into the house and straight to the whisky cabinet.

I took out a bottle of Hakushu (see our review here) and poured four measures before I put the bottle back. We held our glasses aloft and tried to think of a suitable toast for such a magnificent whisky.

Then everything changed. One of my flatmate’s girlfriend walked over, poured herself a drink, tapped her glass to ours and said ‘cheers’ before stepping outside.

No one of spoke.

‘Surely, that wasn’t the Hakushu,’ one of us said.

‘No, I think it was Johnnie Walker.’

‘It must have been.’

But it wasn’t.

The Hakushu tasted a bit sour in our mouths, but then we got to talking.

How cool was it that this girl liked drinking whisky? This was somewhere to start. We could bond.

Friends drinking single malt scotch whisky

I took a bottle of Laphroaig, Highland Park and Old Pulteney and put them on the table outside. Within an hour, there were ten people swirling spirits around their glasses. People who'd never savoured a neat whisky talked about subtle grass notes and smoky peat. 

We all came together and bonded over great whisky. Whisky makes that happen. Building connections and friendships are essential. Imperative to life. And that’s why the world would end of whisky disappeared.    

But I will confess, I hid the Hakushu under the sink.

Have you had any great whisky nights with new friends? Let me know in the comments.

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