The 40 Dollar Martini
After Arena Football - which is exactly like one would imagine upon hearing the name - Rian&Co and one partner, four associates and the two Summer Interns went to Keppet's Martini Bar.
The young bouncer in the black shirt and trousers and white tie was indeed carefully checking IDs. Jen The Intern (who had been refused beer at the Arena because she had forgotten her ID) was hassled at the door of the Bar because the bouncer did not believe she as the person on her ID. Poor Jen. She was having a bad night and it was about to get worse.
Past the bouncer the blue doors opened into a narrow space. The walls were quilted leather with big brass buttonesque circles, the tables were either very high or very low, and the bar was very long and granite. Water rolled over a section of tiled wall. At the foot of the fountain a small empty ledge sported a gleaming pole. The pole dancer was in absentia. In the dancer's empty space someone had placed a clay urn filled with dried twigs and flowers.
The ceiling was entirely blue/black and pierced with tiny tiny white lights meant to resemble stars. The two small windows were covered with chain link curtains.
We all squeezed around a tall table in the corner against the pole. Rian ordered the Almond Joy Martini. It tasted of chocolate and coconut. Someone Else ordered a blue martini and was teased mercilessly for being 'girlie'. Everyone else ordered gin and tonics.
Jen the Intern immediatly dropped her gin and tonic. The glass broke all over the stage and the floor. The Other Intern shares Rian's given name and wears a small diamond through her nose.
"Shall I introduce you?" Someone Else whispered in Rian's ear, amused.
"No," Rian whispered back. I was enjoying knowing something about her that she did not know about me.
One of the associates told a story about how he pissed with Dave Matthews in a small bar in a smaller hotel in Moses Lake. Dave apparently prefered stall over urinal.
The other guests in the martini bar were dressed to the nines, the woman sporting the lastest hair cuts and high heels, the men gently metrosexual. They slouched in the low chairs and leaned in the high chairs. Rian wondered if they were all pretending they were anywhere other than Spokaloo.
The fake stars were beautiful.
And Rian forgot to ask what was in the 40 Dollar Martini.
The young bouncer in the black shirt and trousers and white tie was indeed carefully checking IDs. Jen The Intern (who had been refused beer at the Arena because she had forgotten her ID) was hassled at the door of the Bar because the bouncer did not believe she as the person on her ID. Poor Jen. She was having a bad night and it was about to get worse.
Past the bouncer the blue doors opened into a narrow space. The walls were quilted leather with big brass buttonesque circles, the tables were either very high or very low, and the bar was very long and granite. Water rolled over a section of tiled wall. At the foot of the fountain a small empty ledge sported a gleaming pole. The pole dancer was in absentia. In the dancer's empty space someone had placed a clay urn filled with dried twigs and flowers.
The ceiling was entirely blue/black and pierced with tiny tiny white lights meant to resemble stars. The two small windows were covered with chain link curtains.
We all squeezed around a tall table in the corner against the pole. Rian ordered the Almond Joy Martini. It tasted of chocolate and coconut. Someone Else ordered a blue martini and was teased mercilessly for being 'girlie'. Everyone else ordered gin and tonics.
Jen the Intern immediatly dropped her gin and tonic. The glass broke all over the stage and the floor. The Other Intern shares Rian's given name and wears a small diamond through her nose.
"Shall I introduce you?" Someone Else whispered in Rian's ear, amused.
"No," Rian whispered back. I was enjoying knowing something about her that she did not know about me.
One of the associates told a story about how he pissed with Dave Matthews in a small bar in a smaller hotel in Moses Lake. Dave apparently prefered stall over urinal.
The other guests in the martini bar were dressed to the nines, the woman sporting the lastest hair cuts and high heels, the men gently metrosexual. They slouched in the low chairs and leaned in the high chairs. Rian wondered if they were all pretending they were anywhere other than Spokaloo.
The fake stars were beautiful.
And Rian forgot to ask what was in the 40 Dollar Martini.
posted by La Tulipe | 10:30 AM
2 Comments:
Hmm. I'm guessing that the ingredients of the 40 dollar martini could have included 38.50 in change.
Which, I think, would have given a decidedly unpleasant taste to the drink.
Super color scheme, I like it! Keep up the good work. Thanks for sharing this wonderful site with us.
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