It was foolish of him to think that the rest of the month would be like this. It was a rare and beautiful sunny April day in Chicago. The light from the slow setting sun made him squint while walking home to his apartment.
His sunglasses were still tucked in a bag from a quick trip he took last month down South to research . . .
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 . . .
He never had to order at this bar. They always assumed he would be having his usual martini and they were always right. The day was too nice out to be crammed in the subway though. Instead, he decided to walk the fifteen or so blocks down his favorite street to his favorite bar. In doing so his order changed.
He had . . .
The ride to the airport was easy and the surly TSA agent didn't say anything about his mismatched socks or the fact that he had no carry-on bag or luggage. His last-minute ticket made the buzzer go off when it went through the scanner. He realized it was the return ticket that would be used to fly back in a few hours.
. . .
He wasn't one for putting a bartender to a test but he rarely came to bars in the "cool" part of town anymore. It was a pricey cab ride back to the neighborhood he had grown out of a few years ago. He would have made the daiquiri himself but he was out of limes.
He sat and listened to the room. Bar talk used . . .
Shaking hands with everyone was becoming tiresome and he didn't know any of these people. The invite was a surprise when it came and he couldn't remember how he had actually met the happy groom. A class from college or an old client. It didn't matter he thought as he scanned the room. He somehow felt obligated to come . . .
Better than Sex...and the city
This next drink for whatever reason gets bartenders in more of a tizzy than the Mojito. If you can learn how to balance a Cosmopolitan you can make anything. Another hazy history drink and I would rather not toss my hat in the ring on where it came from or from whose hands crafted it first but I will tell you this: when . . .