In the United States, our ideas on drinking are always so strict. Liquor is a deadly serious topic while an aperitif should be lighthearted. It seems as if we have forgotten about aperitif cocktails while the low-ABV and spiritfree movement are catching hold. We are passing over the original low-ABV OGs. This, of course, is nothing . . .
Bars are funny places he thought to himself as he strolled into one of his favorites. It was busier and louder than he liked, but that wouldn't dissuade him from a drink. He preferred a calm bar, and this one generally was, but he was earlier than usual.
A couple was paying at the end of the bar, and he knew the . . .
Throwing his bag on the neatly made hotel bed, he hurriedly checked his watch. After a small delay at the airport, he still had enough time to make it. Quickly he unpacked and hung up anything that could get easily wrinkled. He kicked off his boots, slipped on a pair of loafers, and grabbed his worn-out blue chore coat before . . .
In red neon cursive "BAR" glowed in the afternoon shade. Before pushing the door open, he respectfully unrolled the sleeves of the striped blue Oxford down to his wrists concealing the faded lines inked into his skin. The humidity outside permitted a less formal approach, but the small brass sign on the door clearly . . .
The bartender didn't seem bothered by his request for a spoonful of absinthe in his martini. Normally he took a martini as any sensible person would: gin with a touch of vermouth and a squeeze of lemon oil to garnish. Today, however, he was in the mood for something slightly different.
To anyone looking at his drink . . .
He looked over the bottles behind the bar. They had multiplied since he stocked them last, but that was a long time ago. He was a patron now and the last drink of the night was always tricky. Through experience, he had learned what worked for him and what did not. As much as he enjoyed a whiskey before bed it never helped him come . . .
Leather soled wingtips were a bad choice for this graveled back patio. When he blindly agreed to dinner and drinks with an old friend he wasn't sure what to expect. On entering the place it felt more like a garage than a bar. His quick look over the counter didn't give him much hope of what was to come. His buddy went to . . .