We begin the week with a stiff reflection of the cocktail menu. Laid out, its sections clear and spaced with twisty, elegant black on white paper, a stock that looks just flimsy enough to suggest the restaurant has enough spunk to change its menu every now and again, the drinks on offer seem to cover a vast range.
Who are we tonight? This week? This year? This lifetime?
Are you the nitro ale, splashing into the mug with a frothy entrance, dark and rich, leaving the bite to the cold outside? What about the house red, a staple cabernet from a nameless vineyard whose greatest accomplishment is hitting the price-to-quality bullseye? Perhaps a flight of something stronger, a variety showcase full of potential, provided you even remember any of it after you take the sips? A sugary sweet cocktail, fruit juice flourishing amid flavored vodkas in a wistful dance with not-so-distant springtime?
Or, devious risk-taker that you are, dare you order off menu? Ask for the bartender’s choice and take the leap into unknown air? Do you keep things safe and order the old standby, what’s got you along all these years and has never let you down?
Tell you what I order: whatever’s on special.
It’s a Monday, it’s a new week and after a weekend with more eventing than I’m used to, my body and soul need time to recover. Splendid in so many ways, exhausting in so many others, it nonetheless left me with a sniffly nose and a smiling face. Hard to complain about that. Harder still to find the energy.
It’s a Monday, which means there’s new Blast’em chapters up at the Patreon, which I’ll remember to link one of these days. As a story, that one snuck up on me. It’s still sneaking up on me (I see you, part two). What was supposed to be a short, snappy thing to exercise a different story vein turned into a snarling mess of a tale demanding to be told. So now I’m telling it, here and there. It’s kinda like WILD NINES, albeit with a more military vein. I’m deliberately writing this one without much of a plan, so we’ll follow these mercenaries into the dark and see what happens.
Anyway, the cats are yowling at the moon and dinner needs to be made, and in this restaurant, I’m the chef. At least the prices are decent.