RIP, Shot Glass

Here lie the jagged remains of my one and only shot glass--the only shot glass I've ever owned.  The shattered vessel depicts the Großglockner, the highest peak of the Austrian alps.  My old friend Susie brought it back to me from a trip to Europe she made in 1996.  From this prized souvenir I sipped whiskey and rum.  Occasionally, I put it to use when enjoying a boilermaker, but no more.  I loved my shot glass.  I loved its shape and heft.  I loved that it had a gold rim and a little handle.  You could say this shot glass inspired me to make my own trip to Austria, where I studied abroad in 1997.  I've spent the past week reflecting on the millions of gallons of booze I've ingested, shot by shot, through the years.  My shot glass was special.  I won't go into the details of how it met its end; for me the pain is too near the surface.  Suffice to say it had an unfortunate encounter with my sometimes-careless wife.

My shot glass would have turned 16 this year.  Now it's gone.  Why do the good have to die so young?

Also, what the hell am I going to do with all this rum?

Sue, if you get this message, I'm going to need you to swing by Austria when you get a sec.

K?

Thanks!

nwb