Apparently, my previous post stirred quite a bit of speculation... so please allow me to share a proud moment from last weekend to clarify:
We went out (yep, that's right!!) for a friends 41st birthday which started with drinks at the Driskill and continued to Travernia on Congress and then up the million steps to Speakeasy. No, the fact that I can still physically climb that staircase isn't the part I'm most proud - albeit a noteworthy feat.
We were the last to arrive at the Driskill and everyone was drink-in-hand. What was I to imbibe? Could it be? YES! I was going to have my old standby cocktail. The Shorty has been sleeping through the night (for the most part) and I was ready to relax, enjoy and deal with it should he decide to wake up at 3am, or 5 or 7... you get the picture. Age had made hangovers gradually (yet notably) more difficult to overcome but the prospect of being up repeatedly during the height of 'sleeping it off' has turned the 'hangover' into something to be feared.
I digress.
The cocktail! So I ordered (geez, do I even remember how to do this) it was as if I was walking a tightrope: one new step with each word... martini, vodka. Dirty. Belvedere! Generous with the Vermouth!! =) yayyyy. i made it to the other side! oh, the anticipation.
then the waitress arrives my glorious reunion in hand all cold and pretty. sip 1. hmm.whew! wow. okay, it's okay... it's a been awhile.
--chit chat with the ladies about the 5 month old--
Sip 2. wha? yeah, it happened again. what is going on here? sure, its been well over a year, but could I have possibly lost it?
--chit chat about their recent trip to vegas--
Sip 3. okay, something IS wrong here. it just can't be that we aren't getting along this well. no time to waste, i helped myself to the bartender.
as I approached the bar, glass in hand (and possibly a bit of a fretful look in tow) he preempted me: "Belvedere, right?"
me: "Yes"
bartender: "I made it" (reaching to take it from me)
me: "Oh"
bartender: "I completely forgot the dirty (walks over to splash in the olive juice)"
me: (smiling and relieved) "and the vermouth?"
bartender: "sorry. that too..."
me: (as he hands it back) "thanks! i have a baby and it's the first time in over a year-- i thought it was me!"
conservatively dressed 40-something woman at the bar, looking me over with a slight smile: "impressive. You've still got it"
Sip 4: perfect.
Post Script: After finishing half the martini, I helped myself to half a glass of wine at dinner then eased up, having two glasses of water by Speakeasy and calling it a night.
