Friday, March 1, 2024

2. One Shot of Vodka

Al hands you the beer owed but you would have preferred an explanation: 'So what, exactly, did I see?'

He averts sly grin: 'That was an in-joke.'

You sense half-truth: 'Is this safe to drink?'

'The red drink was a bloody mary. Tomato juice, vodka. A small hit of hair of the dog. Which worked.'

You drink: Yeah but why did the goldfish spontaneously combust?

'The bloody mary is not a vegetarian cocktail. At least, not how we drink it. It needs Worcestershire sauce, which has anchovies as an ingredient. Something needs to die.'

That is a bit fucking vague: 'Why not just salt the rim?'

He waves a hand over the crowd, pulling conversation onto tangent: 'Something is missing here. What do you see?'

You glance back to your partner's seat. They have accumulated an eclectic alcoholic smorgasbord. An attractive someone, no relation but oh so charming with hand placed on upper-arm, delivers them another piece for the collection. Your partner alights with sudden confidence and their cousins smirk at plan well executed.

'I see people who have come together to celebrate your love.' You drink and play dumb. 'And remind you, as a community, that there are no backsies.'

'And enjoy the free booze and food.' Al now points to the balcony door, where Chris and Frank's exit is made clumsy by hands full of pints. 'I see a fifty-two percent chance of Flaming Pizza Box Golf and a fourteen percent chance of someone getting slapped. But that was with old data - glass five-sixths full, I suppose.'

You are not going to get your answers yet but that can wait. Your beer is done and you need another drink.

Al senses this: 'So are we good, or did you want another one?'

You fancy:

something strong from the bar

whatever your partner has accumulated

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