Cut As A Button turned 21 today. MiniMe (who also recently turned 21) and I headed to her birthday party at a local bar where they serve classic cocktails.
When I say ‘they,’ I am using the term loosely because this bar offers no table service and only has one mixologist on shift. Thus, if you want a classic cocktail – such as a Pimm’s Cup, Old Fashioned or a Moscow Mule – you’ve got to get in line, exercise patience, and be prepared to pay a copper mug deposit if you’re ordering the latter.
LaLaLovely arrived shortly after us and then disappeared for about ten minutes. “Where did you go?” I asked. “I’ve been at the bar waiting for a drink. Unbelievable,” she replied, then joined me, Bruiser and the other older adults on the ‘non-kid’ end of the table.
As we were finishing our drinks and wanting another, we knew we would need to order everything at once based on previous wait times. Thus, LaLaLovely and I boldly approached the bar and took our place in line. “With waits like this I can’t believe people keep coming here,” she stated. I turned to see those to whom she was referring and noticed a fresh batch of young hipsters anxious to consume a classic cocktail. “They don’t mind because they’re sipsters – they just sip their cocktails so one drink lasts forever for them. Seasoned drinkers like us, we don’t sip,” I advised. “And we’re not hip,” LaLaLovely replied. “Exactly. We’re just a couple of old drunks,” I said. “I’ll cheers to that in about ten minutes, when I have a drink again,” she quipped.