I’m Your Mixologist.
BY Kate Hahn
Hey, fella. Looks like you’ve had a rough day. You can tell me your troubles about ten minutes from now, after I’ve finished reviewing our extensive original cocktail list. My signature creation is off the menu but—
The highest bridge in town? Just keep going north. It’s a steel suspension, 500 feet above the river. But more importantly, today we’re offering freshly caramelized Kapaluan pineapple gomme—
Just a shot of 40-year-old Scotch? Straight? Are you sure you don’t want to experience my artistry?
Okay, here you go. What’s that you say? You used to be able to muddle through okay and you’re not sure what happened? You should try my muddler! It’s a replica of an original turn-of-the-century tool. She’s a right fine piece of pine. I named her Wendy, after the girl in Peter Pan. What? Yes, my good gentleman, the bridge has a breakdown lane.
Another shot? Certainly. Oh, I feel like something’s missing too. With my ultimate signature drink, I was thinking of adding a dash of fresh grassia blanca, an Andalusian herb that only grows within 20 meters of the Mediterranean on rocky cliffs and is at its most flavorful the three days before Easter every other year. But then I thought, No, that’s too easy. Yes, I’m pretty sure the city would ticket you for parking on the bridge.
My wife doesn’t understand where the passion I have for rosemary came from either! Hey, sit down. I don’t know the blonde, Rosemary, from accounting. I mean rosemary, the herb.
What? I have no idea if your relatives would have to pay the parking ticket from the bridge if you were unable to do so.
Another shot? Are you sure you don’t want some star anise floated on top? Then allow me to serve it to you in this block of ice hollowed out so it looks like a shot glass. It’s flecked with fresh dill. No, it’s not an ice cube someone pissed on and dropped in the grass. But I suppose I can see where you would make that mistake.
Running out of thyme? I hear you, fine sir. Thyme heals wounds and stops pain. I lie in bed at night thinking about how climate change will affect the thyme fields. Yes, I’m sure thyme grows in a field. Where? Provence. In France. No, the herb, thyme. Not time. Here’s something interesting. Have you noticed I don’t wear a watch? The titanium interacts unfavorably with the clementines.
No, you’re not the only one who sees the beauty of simplicity. I do too. It’s just that… the purest form of anything is too much for me to handle.
You’re mixed up? But you’re not. This is the problem. Let Wendy and me muddle up some basil and mint and—
Close out your tab? Okay. Hey, I hope I helped. Hope you find that bridge.
SUGGESTED READSMonologue: Friedrich Nietzsche, Chain-Restaurant Bartender
by Nick Kolakowski (5/31/2011)
Black, Grey, Green, Red, Blue: A Letter From a Famous Painter On The Moon
by Ben Greenman (1/7/2002)
On Collecting Tiny Physical Replicas of Former Lovers
by Noah Tourjee (10/20/2010)
RECENTLYLike and Literally Make a Deal
by Charlie Geer (12/6/2013)
Introducing Two New Nick Hornby Titles
by Jess Walter and McSweeney's Books (12/6/2013)
Norse History for Bostonians: The Prose Edda for Bostonians: Gylfaginning, Part I
by Rowdy Geirsson (12/6/2013)
POPULARJamie and Jeff’s Birth Plan
by Paul William Davies (12/26/2012)
I Regret to Inform You That My Wedding to Captain Von Trapp Has Been Canceled
by Melinda Taub (5/18/2011)
Retail Therapy: Inside the Apple Store: It’s a Trap!
by J.K. Appleseed (11/21/2013)