Column: The Terrible Feeling of an Empty Whiskey Bottle, or a Bottle Kill

We've all experienced that feeling: the disappointment when your whisky bottle is suddenly empty. Sometimes it's a bottle you've received as a gift or found with great effort. But is it really so sad that the bottle is empty?

On a lovely evening, you carefully remove a bottle of whisky from its box. You read the label from bottom to top. How old is it? Which casks was it aged in? What's the alcoholic volume? You set the bottle down gently and take your favorite glass from the cabinet. You rinse it with hot water, dry it with a clean tea towel, give it an extra polish, and then you cautiously unseal the bottle.

The pop of the cork sends the first subtle scents wafting through the air. You pour a generous amount into the glass and hold it up to the light to admire the color. You give the whisky a little swirl in the glass and watch the slow descending legs. You then carefully sniff the glass with your mouth slightly agape, before taking your first sip. The flavors explode in your mouth and eliciting a feeling of sheer bliss as you place your glass down.
A new friendship is born.

Of course, the bottle takes pride of place in your whisky cabinet. You position it at the front, where everyone can see it. This bottle is special. Only your closest (whisky) friends get to savor it, and you only drink it on special occasions, such as the first Thursday of the week. And so, it continues until eventually you get accustomed to it, and it starts to make appearances at less formal occasions. You start to share samples more frequently with fellow whisky enthusiasts and gradually, the level in the bottle starts to drop, until finally, there's barely anything left, and the moment has arrived.

The dreaded term has arrived: the Bottle Kill! Technically speaking, it simply means the bottle has been emptied. But if viewed emotionally, it serves a greater purpose. The bottle is poured dry. The last glass is drunk, and the last vestige of life, the soul, exits the bottle. Drama. Farewell. Loss. Nostalgia. This is a bottle that will not return, or will it?

In truth, it's a moment of beauty. The bottle has served its purpose – it has been savored and brought joy, exactly as it was meant to. It is far more cherished than the ones that remain half full, those that could not meet the expectations or simply weren't appetizing. Those are the bottles that gather dust in the back of a whisky cabinet, hidden behind the popular counterparts.

A Bottle Kill should, therefore, be celebrated as much as the opening of a new bottle. Consider this when it's time to say goodbye to the next bottle. It might make the farewell a little less poignant.

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