I’ve never been much of a drinker; an occasional glass of wine or a beer would always suffice. But hard liquor, especially  scotch or whiskey, is almost impossible for me to get down. It’s always amazed me that there are people who actually like that stuff, and I can certainly see why it was used as anesthesia in the wild west.

So imagine my conundrum when I found myself backstage after I opened a show for Tom Jones, and he offered me a drink. It was always customary for Tom to have an all-night party in his dressing room after a show, with his cadre of band members, back-up singers, groupies and hangers-on, and of course as would be expected, his opening act.

“Would you like to try some special Irish scotch,” Tom offered. I didn’t want to say no and be uncool or unparty-like. “I’ll try a little, I guess,” I reluctantly yet cheerfully replied. Tom poured some into a shot glass and handed it to me.

“This scotch is a thousand dollars a bottle,” he warned. “It’s called ‘Usquebah.’ Make sure you drink the whole thing!”

I held the glass firmly and took a tiny sip, nodding my head and feigning appreciation for this unique drink. It might as well have been three dollar street whiskey, or whatever the cheapest thing is. For me it was like drinking brake fluid, and I had to get rid of it.

Fortuitously for me, right at that moment Tom was pulled away by some of his partiers, and I quickly made a bee-line into the bathroom, where I promptly disposed of this glass of thousand dollar scotch in a modest fifty dollar toilet. When I went back into the room, there was Tom waiting for me.

“What did you think of it?” he asked.

“It was phenomenal,” I replied. “All I need now is a thousand dollar Cuban cigar. Let me know if you have one.”