White Girl Wasted on the Redneck Riviera

Bud Light Lime Razz-ber-Ita: sweet smell, sugary sour grape body. Tart finish. That’s all the description it’s worth. 2/10


When it comes to dining and drink options, Panama City Beach has an interesting illusion of choice. Do you want this sweet rum-and/or-coconut drink here, or do you want the same drink but on a patio that overlooks the beach, or perhaps at the cool club where the kids hang out, or the “dive” bar with all the motorcycles outside. The prices do not vary, but there’s always a drink deal, and every one of them sells a “collector’s” cup.

Lately, I’ve been drinking some of the best beer in America and claiming that it was all for posterity’s sake. Naturally, I got called out for being a little bit self-serving. To renew my pledge to drink the beer so that you don’t have to, I’m gettin’ sorority-girl drunk in the craft-beer desert of Panama City.

Sometimes you can get caught in a position that gives you no exit. For example, a vacation with no other beer snobs. Maybe it’s just your girlfriend and two of her friends. Maybe the whole line of Bud Light margarita drinks are on sale. How do you navigate these unfamiliar and turbid waters? I’m here to help pilot you through.

In my friends’ defense, this was entirely my idea.

I bought us all a bunch of each flavor of the Bud Light Margarita family: Mango, Strawberry, Lime, and Raspberry. We decided to play the “Who am I?” drinking game to keep things simple while we reviewed the beer. Kristy, Fauzia, and Jenny all got situated with their cups and I poured mine. I lifted the Lime-A-Rita towards my mouth to get a taste but was interrupted by the professionals’ incredulous looks. “Whoa, dude-” Fauzia’s accusing finger lifts and points my way, “-you’re gonna want to drink that with ice.”

“Yeah, that’s like the difference between eating a Icee Pop or just drinking the liquid out of the plastic tube,” echoed Kristy.

Out of my realm, I acquiesced without further argument.

My first drink was the Lime-a-Rita. I can smell skunked beer through a thick, thick, veil of high fructose corn syrup. The taste is not unlike a cheap margarita made with too much mixer. It’s somewhat like a sprite but with more booze. For what we’re doing, it’s not unbearable, but they use sweetened lime juice as though Gallagher wrote the instructions. 1.5/10

A few sips in, I had a revelation. This is how they “fix” beer that went bad. Stuff that either sat in the store for too long or in their warehouse, or something else in the system messed up… just run it through the FlavorRemover® and add sugar.

We finished the first round in about 15 minutes and, as is the rule, finished our drinks. “Why are you doing this to us” seemed to be the general attitude at the table.

Round 2 was the Mang-o-Rita. It smells terrible; sickly sweet, like moldy oranges, and left a burn that was not dissimilar to nail-polish remover. Kristy said it smells like all of the Jolly ranchers melted together in a car. Fauzia says it was like all the skittles in your mouth chased with sprite; which, to her, is acceptably appetizing. Jenny said hers “just smells like Florida.”

I’d rather drink almost anything that isn’t poisonous. 0/10

Fortunately, it took us much longer to guess our identities in the second round and I was able to spread out the insult of the Mang-o-Rita. By the end of it, I was certain that Fauzia’s relative affection for this flavor was somehow an effect of Stockholm Syndrome.

The third round was Straw-ber-ita. It tasted like daiquiri syrup. Oddly, it has the most beer-like aftertaste of the group; with some semblance of a light lager. This one was Kristy’s favorite. I consider it only slightly better than the mango. 1/10

The fourth and final round of our game had me drinking Razzberita. In what was surely no surprise to anyone at this table, it also had an unappetizing sweet aroma. It was overwhelmingly grape-like and somewhat tart, like a sweet wine mixed with cranberry juice. It was the only one that we all agreed was palatable. This is the best one by mine and Jenny’s count. Fauzia wrinkles her nose at us, “ew, it tastes like Dimetapp on ice.” 2/10

And it It abosultely does! And, I fucking loved Dimetapp! As a kid, I got caught drinking it often enough for my parents to stop buying it. It seems that Dextromethorphone and Bromfen produce some pretty similar effects to alcohol; including euphoria, sedation, and drowsiness. I appear to have been training myself early.

After four cans each, the women at the table all tapped out and left me to finish the rest of the ‘Rita family beers on my own. Maybe, when you get to a certain age the flavors in this drink are no longer appealing. I’m happy to be there. If you’re surrounded by friends who still drink these beers, rest assured, the future is better.

Razz-ber-ita was my favorite, and I will avoid the Mango at all costs. The other two were not too enjoyable, but I could probably survive in an apocalypse scenario. One of our main mistakes was not drinking enough water. With this sort of a sugary drink, go in hydrated and drink like a professional; a glass of water for each beer to help fend off a wicked hangover.

Oh! and don’t forget the ice.

Cheers!

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3 thoughts on “White Girl Wasted on the Redneck Riviera

  1. Pingback: Panama City Epilogue | EricDrinksTheBeer

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