In perhaps the greatest tragedy of our time (or at least this week), workers excavating an area under Fulton Street in lower Manhattan in order to install new water mains uncovered more than a hundred 18th-century bottles of booze—and all of them were empty. What aged spicy rum were we denied? What mature, full-bodied wine never crossed the threshold of our parched lips? Ah, sweet spilled liquor, we weep to have ne’er tasted thee!
DNAinfo interviewed archaeologist Alyssa Loorya
on the find, and she noted that “there were many taverns in the area at the time, to accommodate all the traveling sailors,” adding that these bottles “were likely reused many times.” Can you imagine? A bottle that has held every kind of spirit, the backwash of dozens of prostitutes and pirates, and maybe even been employed as a murder weapon? Every sip you took would be like sipping the whole filthy world of Revolutionary-era New York. Delicious!
We cannot possibly offer the people of the future anything so special, but that doesn’t mean I’m not hard at work right now digging a special pit in my apartment building’s laundry room, in which I plan to bury full bottles of my special bathtub-brewed gins and moonshines. I think of it as a time capsule for those who’d rather forget what year it is. Drink on, thou distant generation! I’m sure that with climate change etc. you will really need something to take the edge off.