Welcome back to FTW’s Beverage of the Week series. Here, we mostly chronicle and review beers, but happily expand that scope to any beverage (or food) that pairs well with sports. Yes, even cookie dough whiskey.
Let’s begin with a disclaimer. Safety Shot, the drink that supposedly “reduces blood alcohol content” is now Sure Shot. I have not tried Sure Shot. I ignored the brand’s sample requests. The reason is simple; Safety Shot, I’m fairly certain, is Satan’s urine.
I do not know how they bottled it. I do not understand if the drink can actually lower your BAC, but I’m skeptical. That claim comes two lines above “citrus splash” on the can’s label and to suggest this tastes anything like citrus would be to suggest a dusting of cinnamon atop an open port-a-john makes it a “Christmas ale.”
I am generally happy to try whatever comes my way. Sure Shot is the first drink I’ve refused at FTW’s Beverage of the Week because Safety Shot was such an abject disaster. Coming and going, but we’ll get to that.
Safety shot in the morning: F
I cracked this can the morning after a handful of beers. Normally, I’d start my day with about 40 ounces of water, then some caffeine. Today, I’m starting with Safety Shot. I’m not exactly hungover, but there’s room here to feel better.
It pours thick and looks like the Jaguars’ pee chart Color Rush jerseys. It smells, and I cannot stress this enough, horrible. A little like fruit and entirely too much like burnt hair. I am suddenly not looking forward to this. Is this a Malort-style scheme to use awful taste to convince you something’s medicine?
It’s sweet and sugary and then gives way to a fire at Fantastic Sams. I can understand why you’d need to be over-the-top drunk to drink this. It is… rough. There’s a rotten vegetable undercurrent that shows up at the end. It turns everything spoiled and bitter and honestly makes it feel like you’re drinking gasoline. Or a terrible cologne.
“Is that its color? It looks like your pee after a long night of drinking. You’re dehydrated.” That’s how my wife described it after smelling the glass and physically recoiling. I may be failing to properly describe how unappealing this is.
It does get a little better as it goes, or maybe my tongue is getting calloused. It’s making me at least slightly nauseous, however, which feels like a bad vector to introduce to a night of drinking.
I’m now drinking through a straw and trying not to breathe through my nose. Bringing the glass to my face makes me feel as though I am seconds away from a stroke, leaving me to ask a concerned room if anyone else smells melting pennies. I’ve had more pleasant experiences picking up dog poop in my backyard.
Good god, I am 15 minutes into this can and maybe only halfway done. This is torturous. After 30 minutes it’s gone and, fortunately, I do feel a little better. The caffeine isn’t hitting the way I’d hoped — I’m still tired — but the early morning brain fog that comes with drinking a handful of beers as a 40-year-old dad has lifted. After an hour, I feel pretty normal, even as the taste lingers on my tongue and in my stomach. I genuinely want to rip a shot of bourbon just to see if I can get rid of it, which is anathema to Safety Shot’s mission.
Would this lower my blood alcohol content? Not magically, but it’s hideous and takes long enough to drink that I just spent the last half hour not drinking booze, so if nothing else that’s technically true. Did it give me my day back? No. I could have gotten to this point without drinking something my brain screamed at me, every step of the way, not to put in my body.
I’ve moved on to flavored water, in part because I badly need to wash this from my mouth. Good god, this feels like a punishment for a crime I have yet to commit. Possibly a murder, based on the severity of this aftertaste. My stomach hurts and my brain is still trying to untie the knot of what I just drank.
I brushed my teeth for the second time this morning. Maybe this cuts down on your ABV and helps with a hangover, but you know what else does? Running a 5K. And that takes about as long and requires less effort and mental toughness. If you gave me the choice, right now, between running three miles and drinking another can of Safety Shot I would choose the former. Either way, you’re gonna be left tired and feeling like you need a shower.
Update: 90 minutes in and, uh, let’s just say my body is not reacting well to the confluence of terrible things inside my stomach. [Expletive]’s sake. I won’t disgust you with the details, but if Safety Shot’s plan was to keep my BAC down by voiding the contents of my body, well, bravo.
Would I drink it instead of a Hamm’s?
This is a pass/fail mechanism where I compare whatever I’m drinking to my baseline cheap beer. That’s the standby from the land of sky-blue waters, Hamm’s. So the question to answer is: on a typical day, would I drink Safety Shot over a cold can of Hamm’s?
Friends, I’d drink stagnant puddle water over Safety Shot. Hamm’s is sweet deliverance compared to this gustatory nightmare.
Do not, and I cannot stress this enough, drink Safety Shot. Or, by association, Sure Shot.
