It was the shrug that bothered me.
Isobel and I are at an event for her work.
I’m standing off to the side, at the edge of the bar, waiting for our drinks. It’s hot as hell in here and we’ve been waiting forever for the line to die down enough that we could actually get to the bar and order. This is a cool venue, but the lightning meant we couldn’t go outside. In fact, the event staff stationed themselves at the exits to prevent people like me, who needed some breathing room, from sneaking off to go get some. At least, until the lightning stopped. But that caused a thousand people to shuffle to the bar, shoulder-to-shoulder, all at once.
Eventually, Isobel and I were able to order. We each basically got the same thing; except one’s a cocktail and the other’s its mocktail counterpart. But the bartender who rang us up is not the same person who’s making our drinks, so I’m casually watching while that person’s using a two-handed-pour to make both at once.
That always makes me nervous.
From what I could tell, it was essentially vodka, lemonade, mint simple-syrup, and a lime seltzer float. In the many years I spent bartending, I know full-well that it’s faster to make multiple drinks at a time with pre-batched ingredients. Only after I got sober, though, did I really start paying attention to every step of someone else making my drink. Usually there’s a way to tell a non-alcoholic beverage apart from the others... a different sized glass or an extra garnish, maybe two straws instead of one. A bottle and a glass to pour it in.
I’ve seen a lot of these variations.
There’s only one other person at the bar now. Maybe that’s why the bartender who rang us up noticed that I’m watching the drinks being made. Or maybe it’s that I’m still sweating, despite the dispersed crowd. I’d have ditched my suit jacket long ago if I hadn’t been wearing this white button-down. Truthfully, I can’t even remember the last time I wore a tie. I’d been pretty pleased with myself for trying it from muscle-memory on the first go.
As the person making our drinks plops a straw and a lemon in each, I feel my lips and eyebrows form identical lines. Um, ok.... but which one has the booze? The first bartender seems to be thinking the same thing because she turns and asks her colleague. Same glasses, same garnishes, same straws. The first bartender and I share a glance.
Hmm.
And that’s when the person who made the drinks shrugs.
Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
342/365
What would you have done?
onward.
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