so i'm taking a bartending / mixology course. i'm about halfway through, so far it's not too bad.
most of it, i've gotta think isn't gonna be too handy in any of the old scrappy college town pubs i'm gonna feel like working in. jack and coke, shot of jonny red, bud, bud, bud, pabst, gin and tonic, and the night is feckin done.
the rest of it's fairly breezy though, which gives me the impression there's a slutload of drinks they're prolly just not going to burden us with. today was mostly manhattans and martinis, doin' all the swanky pouring jazz and keeping all hints of vermouth the hell outta dodge on the latter.
the class is nice, everybody's rather friendly and down-off-their-guard since the whole thing's in a mock bar, so the whole setting kind of exudes low-inhibition, and in uptight, everyone-is-out-to-rape-my-mugger-massachusetts, that's a big stretch.
location location location.
still, the second you're not inside the actual room, all the people that were smiling and talking with you suddenly act as if they've no idea who the hell you are. even this one older guy who i joke around with a bit didn't seem to hear when i called the typical "see you tomorrow" as we were both getting into our cars.
similarly, as the fake drinks pour at the bar on the second floor, they glimmer in the fading sunlight to your back, as there's plated glass behind where the top call bottles are standing. and then you begin to realize that the glimmer is actually sunlight-formed mold, flickering like goldschlager in the muddy water calling itself vodka.
anyway i'm hoping to just get some divy thing two or three nights a week so siv and i have a few extra bucks to, oddly enough, hit the pub on the nights when i'm not workin, heh.
until then, have a sloe comfortable screw off-the-wall on me.
no i mean, on me.
most of it, i've gotta think isn't gonna be too handy in any of the old scrappy college town pubs i'm gonna feel like working in. jack and coke, shot of jonny red, bud, bud, bud, pabst, gin and tonic, and the night is feckin done.
the rest of it's fairly breezy though, which gives me the impression there's a slutload of drinks they're prolly just not going to burden us with. today was mostly manhattans and martinis, doin' all the swanky pouring jazz and keeping all hints of vermouth the hell outta dodge on the latter.
the class is nice, everybody's rather friendly and down-off-their-guard since the whole thing's in a mock bar, so the whole setting kind of exudes low-inhibition, and in uptight, everyone-is-out-to-rape-my-mugger-massachusetts, that's a big stretch.
location location location.
still, the second you're not inside the actual room, all the people that were smiling and talking with you suddenly act as if they've no idea who the hell you are. even this one older guy who i joke around with a bit didn't seem to hear when i called the typical "see you tomorrow" as we were both getting into our cars.
similarly, as the fake drinks pour at the bar on the second floor, they glimmer in the fading sunlight to your back, as there's plated glass behind where the top call bottles are standing. and then you begin to realize that the glimmer is actually sunlight-formed mold, flickering like goldschlager in the muddy water calling itself vodka.
anyway i'm hoping to just get some divy thing two or three nights a week so siv and i have a few extra bucks to, oddly enough, hit the pub on the nights when i'm not workin, heh.
until then, have a sloe comfortable screw off-the-wall on me.
no i mean, on me.
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I'm in LA.
you should get Doggy and float down here on your wings of grenadine.