Glenfiddich is the single malt that women tend to like the most. It's sweet-ish and not too smoky. You might prefer a blend, at least to start. Johnny Walker Black is a pretty good place to start, although I've met more women who like Chivas. It is currently 9pm. I worked from 5am until 6pm, then drove half an hour, slept in my car for an hour and then spent an hour passing undiluted stomach acid and undigested spinach due to a rather nasty allergic reaction I had at lunch. I then started working an hour ago; I will hopefully get to leave at 11 but I might be here until 6. Which would be bad because I need to be back at the other gig at 5:30 tomorrow morning to work until, you guessed it, 6pm Wednesday (9pm EDT), when I will drive 54 miles home. Which, okay, except for the fact that this was my schedule yesterday as well. Minus the food poisoning, fortunately. So when I get home tomorrow night right about the time IRC starts, I will have logged 56 union hours and experienced about 8 hours of sleep in the previous 60, and will hopefully have a digestive system interested in showing up to work. At that point I will see my wife and child, the former of which I last saw Sunday at midnight when she ran off to a birth that ended up with her fist rammed up a woman's uterus for half an hour to keep her from bleeding to death, the latter of which I last saw at 4am Monday morning when I let in the babysitter to take her to daycare. Suffice it to say "TMI, yes I know" but also "have a great IRC but I'm barely coherent now and tomorrow is gonna be fuckin' sporty."
A female PhD open data advocate got me drinking this. Deliciously peaty.
Good luck pal. Scotch, food poisoning, sleep deprivation, uterus fisting... this comment has it all. Hang in there.