Super Tuesday is finally upon us, and while a gaggle of legitimate news outlets will be focused on boring us to death with talk of “precincts,” “delegates” and “exit polls,” we at Citysearch are bringing you the kind of hard-hitting, no-nonsense reporting that really matters. Specifically, we’re investigating a question that is of the utmost importance when it comes to selecting a new leader of the free world: “What would the presidential candidates drink, and where would they drink it?”
So, if you’re wondering how Obama’s plan to get the hell outta Dodge (where by “Dodge” I mean “Baghdad”) compares to McCain’s plan to keep us there for another 100 years, I couldn’t tell you. And if you’re unsure of how Clinton’s plan to offer universal health care differs from Romney’s plan to withhold it, I just don’t know. But what I do know is that by the time the polls close on Tuesday night, all of the candidates, winners and losers alike, will be fiending for a liquid fix.
So here’s our take on what and where each of them would drink–if the cameras (and evangelists) weren’t watching.
Everything about the New York Senator–from her infamous pants suits to her fancy Chappaqua digs–says she’s a lady who lets loose with a white wine spritzer. And while her husband might prefer to go, uh, downtown, Hil’s a definite uptown girl. But if Cafe Des Artistes was booked, perhaps she’d head over to midtown’s Yale Club–where her fellow Ivy Leaguers sip Chardonnay at their very own haven away from New Haven. So, rather than let Obama get to her on Super Tuesday, HRC will simply take a deep breath, plaster on a smile and get plastered.
He may be from Illinois (by way of Hawaii), but Obama knows how to kick it NYC-style. The Columbia University graduate admits that back in the day he dabbled in drugs and alcohol (which might explain in part why he’s carrying the American youth vote), but these days he sticks to throwing punches rather than spiking it. When Obama wants to get his drink on, he likely meets up with celeb supporters like Robert De Niro for sake bombs at Nobu or vino at Tribeca Grill. On second thought, maybe he prefers to show that he’s in touch with the Average Joe by grabbing a beer somewhere less elitist, like a dive bar in Brooklyn, or even Staten Island. Just kidding! No one would ever want to go there!
The 72-year-old Republican front-runner probably has to do his boozing on the sly, thanks to his wife Cindy, the Budweiser heiress with a well-documented pill-popping habit. A decorated war veteran (and war advocate), should McCain arrive in New York to find that the officer’s club is closed, I suspect he’d drop by the Soldiers’, Sailors’, Marines’ Coast Guard and Airmen’s Club and sidle up to the bar with a nice single malt scotch. And once he started feeling tipsy, he would head to the nearest military recruiting station and attempt to re-enlist for active duty, just to prove that he’s not too old to be president.
You can always count on a Mormon to be the life of any party, and the former Massachusetts governor is no exception. Although Romney’s Church of Latter Day Saints traditionally prohibits the use of alcohol, they have begun to relax their policy slightly, permitting members of the Church to consume small amounts of low-ABV booze. In other words, Romney’s a lightweight who probably gets a buzz off a sixer of O’Doul’s. That might fly in his Puritan state, but in NYC that ain’t gonna cut it. So maybe he’d try to fit in by going to a bar that is happy to make non-alcoholic versions of their cocktails–like Brasserie 8 1/2 or Counter–so he wouldn’t have to feel awkward saying, “Would you make that a virgin pina colada, boss?” in public. Actually, he should feel awkward saying that. What an amateur. Do you really want a guy who can’t hold his liquor running this ship?
The Southern Baptist and former governor of Arkansas may have vetoed a bill in his state that would have made public drinking in “entertainment districts” legal, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a hardcore boozer in private. This dude wouldn’t know what the hell to do with himself in the big city, and would likely end up hanging out somewhere exotic and touristy, like New Jersey or Planet Hollywood or Jekyll & Hyde, where he’d order something creepy and overly complex–you know, like a drink that looks and smells like it belongs in a witches cauldron rather than a glass. It doesn’t really matter though, because despite his victory in Iowa, it seems like it’s only a matter of time before Huckabee drops out ofthe race. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time that an Arkansas governor turned out to be a nuisance for Hillary Clinton.
I’ll be honest, I don’t know much about Texas congressman Ron Paul, except that he looks suspiciously like my grandpa, and that he’s a doctor who doesn’t believe in evolution–which means he’s clearly suffering from a kind of denial seen only among people who drink a whole hell of a lot. It’s not a stretch to imagine that if he weren’t a politician, he’d be standing on a crate somewhere, rocking a Members Only jacket and polyester pants with a razor-sharp crease, ranting about how social welfare programs are un-American, and how the government oughtta’ give everyone a semi-automatic weapon instead of universal health care. But if Ronnie found himself in Manhattan, I’m guessing he’d probably split his time evenly between the OTB and dirty bars like Charlie O’s, where he’d alternate between Bud tallboys and Jack Daniels, depending on the time of day.