Jared can’t change the fact his name begins with ‘jar’.
I am a pretty relaxed kind of guy, not too many things get me worked up, except for jars. Yes, jars are really cool! They have many good qualities such as the fact you can look through them to see what they contain, glass does not taint easily which means that you can use them again and again and they create an airtight seal which is very hygienic.
I have a lot of jars; I am a part time hoarder and full-time preserver. Before today I have had many conversations with friends about what jars are the best kind for preserving and fermenting and the like. Yes, that’s right people, I am that kinda guy…
But it doesn’t change the fact that I HATE drinking out of jars. Drinking out of jars is the stupidest of stupids, and it’s definitely NOT cool!
Of course, there are exceptions. For example, if you and I were surviving a zombie apocalypse and we found refuge in a cluttered attic, while the undead were gnashing their teeth below, and by chance the only fresh rain water available was dripping from a small hole in the ceiling which you then collected and passed to me, starving and exhausted, in a jar – then I would graciously accept your offer, and drink from said jar.
Another acceptable time to drink out of a jar could possibly be if you were a Hill Billy driving me for hours across a bumpy dirt road to take me to your legendary moonshine distillery, where you made the finest moonshine in ‘these here parts’ using ‘dear old grand-pappy’s’ recipe and jars. In this case I would drink out of a jar only if, upon arrival, we discover there has been a shoot out and all the windows (and glasses) and everything is all ‘busted up’ and yet somehow there remains one grubby jar. I would find it quite ‘on theme’, and acceptable, if you were to wipe out that grubby jar with your grubby hands on your grubby overalls, then charge my vessel. I would drink from that jar graciously and exclaim a loud sigh of appreciation.
However, seeing as society is in tact, our dead remain dead and we are residing in the Inner West, not the wild west – I would have to ask you, if you are considering pouring a beverage into a jar, to take a good hard look at what choices you are making in life. We have come too far to pour all our progress in to a fake antique jar! I don’t care if it has a handle!
Even if you are Donna Hay or the Queen Mother, I will not accept my cocktail, milkshake, soup or breakfast, god forbid, in
a f**king jar.
I would rather eat out of my lap.
• Words: Jared Ingersoll