Oh, for a muse of booze, that would descend
The dimmest dive bar in New Orleans
A Carousel for a stage, barmen to pour
Drunkards to behold, and antics to ensue!
Then should the Deadly Jenns, like themselves
Assume the port of the Sins, and at their heels,
Leash’d in like Furies, should luges, laybacks and slushies,
Crouch to be emptied down throats, laying waste to all.
Apologies to William Shakespeare, but the Seven Deadly Jenns seemed to need a better introduction than I could give on my own. Who are the Seven Deadly Jenns and why name them thusly? Well, these ladies all happen to be named Jenn in one way or another, whether Jenn, Jen, Jenny, Jenifer, and so on. They are also every single one of them wonderful and amazing people, until the drinking starts. Then, they’re still awesome, but now they are also deadly to your liver, your brain, your health, and sanity.
I have decided to put this guide together so that if you should encounter any of them you can either run screaming to or from them. On the one hand your body will thank you, on the other your life will be the poorer, because no matter what these ladies represent something that is near and dear to my heart. Wait, is that my heart? Hmmm, it might be my stomach. What’s that gurgly feeling when you can feel a craving for something but your stomach starts rebelling at the mere though of it? Either way, these ladies represent some of what is best in the spirits and cocktail world, style, knowledge, panache, and an inability to take themselves too seriously.
Jennifer Morgenthaler Brooke – The Sniper
Yes, the sister of that Morgenthaler and recently made Joe Brooke one of the best and nicest gentlemen in the industry one of the luckiest as well. She sits from afar and just waits for you to settle in and get comfortable at the bar. Then, wham! Out of nowhere shots appear, and I’m not talking the “Yipee! We got shots!” Oh no, she uses her network of informants your own complacency to figure out exactly where you are, then figure out who’s working and then the batphone rings and your doom is sealed. We’re talking about the wince inducing, head starts to hurt pre-emptively, sort of shots. Of course she knows that none of us are ever going to turn them down, just curse her name, cheers her reach (I did that for you J. Mo), and slam them back.
Don’t let that innocent smile lure you into any false sense of security. Behind those shades lies a calculating and far reaching lady, who strikes when least expected. Watch out for her, but you won’t see her coming.