Post #99584 by Satan's Sin on Thu, Jul 1, 2004 9:29 AM

Many moons ago, when I was in the Navy, we pulled into Singapore and on the top of my checklist was a visit to the famous "Raffles" hotel -- birthplace of the legendary Singapore Sling.

The long bus ride through Singapore proved singularly uninspiring. "Singapore" conjurs up such mighty images of romance and mystery, and yet the city before me was more like a squeaky-clean version of Tampa, Fla. Spitting is crime. Chewing gum is a crime (honest). Smoking dope means death. Everything else means a beating with a cane. But by god you could eat off those sidewalks.

Anyway -- Raffles. Old British imperial grandeur going a little to seed; maybe they'll fix it up, maybe not. Go to bar. Bored young Chinese bartender looks through me. I ask for a Singapore Sling. Bored bartender sighs, reaches under bar, picks up an already-made Sling from a tray of at least two dozen Slings, places it on bar.

Tasted like vodka and cherry Hawaiian punch.

Did have a slightly better time at a British "country club" near the naval station called "The Terror Club" (honest). Bunch of ex-pat Brits and those of you who are world travelers will know they are drinking fools. Drinks tend to be a full glass of whiskey with a capful of mixer and a cube or two of ice "because we know how you yanks like your ice!"