What Kind of Scotch Should I Get My High Roller

The MACALLAN M at Whiskey Down
Guest Blog by Kanna Smith

Eager to be a part of something new and learn about a spirit that I didn’t even like before, I started working at the brand new Whiskey Down in the middle of the MGM Grand Casino in Las Vegas. I was frustratingly scheduled 1AM-9AM, the hours when sobriety is rare, manners and inhibitions rarer, and small-town women realize the enormous responsibility of high heels.

If there were guests, they were too drunk to drink, or too rude to serve. I had an odd amount of power as a cocktail server: if I didn’t like you, you didn’t drink. You could stumble into any other bar you wanted to in MGM, but I'd have already given my friends there a heads up. Sorry bud, you’re done drinking for the night.

Opening night at Whiskey Down

I tried to exercise caution. I would make the call only when I was certain that the douchebag I was kicking out was just that, a simple drunk douchebag. . . because money talks in Vegas, more so than anywhere else. It screams at you from every machine, every table, every hooker’s eyes as they follow their unsuspecting marks to the bar. And that's what screamed at us when one of the youngest millionaires in the world requested we carry Macallan M at Whiskey Down.

My ears rang when he came in. He was polite, liked whiskey, tipped well, and was a big gambler. There was nothing more I wanted in a guest. He was drunk this evening, more than I had ever seen him.

“Whisky makes me frisky.”
-Some drunk guy probably

“I’d like an M. neat please,” he slurred, eyelids dropping.

I smelled a delicious opportunity in the alcohol on his breath. As I delivered the M, I mentioned my love of whisky and my curiosity surrounding the single malt.

“You’ve never had it?” He asked thickly. I could hear the concern in his voice. I nearly had him.

I blinked coyly, “I can’t afford it." That sealed it. He instructed me to add another to his tab, so I could enjoy it after work.

What followed was the longest shift of my life. I couldn’t wait to try this $730-per-1.5-ounce Scotch! 9AM finally came, and after I tasted the whisky, I nearly did too. I carefully brought the glass to my lips and slowly let the liquid gold touch my tongue. The warm scent of dried apricot melted delicately into flavors of vanilla with a tart plum finish. The first swallow numbed my entire mouth; a sensation I’ve not experienced since.

And though I’ve had the Macallan M once more since that fateful night with my high roller, you know what they say… You never forget your first.

The MACALLAN story »