Unhappy Hour: Green Chartreuse

Folks, gather round, I’m gonna tell you a story – the story of an irresistible French maiden – all sweet smiles and whispered promises – who goes by the name Chartreuse.

Chartreuse. Sounds like the name of a storybook princess, don’t it? She’s had ballads sung and sonnets written about her. Hell, they even named a colour after her. But let me tell you, under all that lace and silk, when you get past all her buttons and clips and you gently lift those swirling green petticoats… you’ll find a raging, ravenous cunt that will swallow you whole, if you don’t mind yourself.

For centuries she’s been a seductress, her siren song ringing out from her French mountain home, where an order of monks dedicate the entirety of their solemn existence to her every whim and demand. These monks have sworn vows of silence, lest the secrets of their green maiden be unleashed upon the world.

Her first kiss is soft, sweet, and aromatic. It’s a kiss to steal your heart – the spices tingle your lips, subtle and complex, a hint of aniseed spreading warmth throughout your body. And you wonder: what is the fuss all about?

Her first kiss is soft, sweet, and aromatic.

Tales have been told in hushed tones, of strong, proud men seduced by Chartreuse’s come-hither tones, then reduced to wretches, barely fit to occupy the gutters that cradle them. Those men now populate the dark corners of the world, raging against that French bitch that brought them undone – cursing her with one breath and begging for more with the next.

Surely, you think, those stories must be false! How could this delicate flower possibly bring these once-proud men to their knees?

Take heed, pilgrim, for in these whispers and legends is a seed of truth, from which sprouts a lesson that one ignores at their own peril. That truth is: Chartreuse is of holy and supernatural issue, and she demands respect.

The crux of problem, however, lies in the very nature of man – our animal urges push us forward, even as our higher instincts plead for caution and restraint. But what is restraint in the wake of Chartreuse’s first kiss? It is but a squirt of piss amidst the fury of a hurricane.

And after that first taste, what can one do but beg for another? Then another. And another. And so on, each encounter feeling like a divine blessing on unworthy lips.

By then, it’s too late. These flimsy mortal vessels were not intended to contain such powerful elemental forces. Chartreuse has you now, and her sweet seductive smile reveals its true condition: a maw full of razor fangs, wet and stained with your viscera. The world around you is swept up in a maelstrom, where each step feels like it will carry you over a vertiginous edge into a yawning abyss, dark as the gulf between the stars.

Then, you wake up.

Your vibrant light will be extinguished, replaced with a mere shadow of your former self – a dim one at that. Your green paramour will be gone, her sweet taste on your tongue replaced with grit. The only trace of chartreuse green that you’ll find will be in your complexion as you gaze dully into the mirror.

You ask yourself: what happened? Chartreuse happened, my friends. Even as you vow that you will never court her again, some dark recess of your mind yearns for more. Such is the nature of her beauty… and her evil.

Chartreuse is a thing of rare power – and much like her green fairy cousin, Absinthe – should not be taken lightly. What may seem like a miracle upon first taste becomes a curse when your excesses are indulged.

If you do plan to spend an evening alone with the Green Lady Chartreuse, then make sure she’s nice and cold. Naked, with ice, is the best way to appreciate her complexity.

If her naked form is too daunting for you, then you might coax her into a cocktail known unflatteringly as Swamp Water, which mixes Green Chartreuse with pineapple and a wedge of lime, served on ice. It’s sweet and fresh, but still allows Chartreuse’s complex beauty to be appreciated in a safer environment.

…you might coax her into a cocktail known unflatteringly as Swamp Water…

Whatever happens, don’t be tempted to put her in a tiny glass and toss her back carelessly. That way lies doom.

So, heed these words and take their warning to your heart. The first taste of Chartreuse may be a divine gift, but succumbing to her powerful spell will soon have you cursing the day you ever heard her name.