An Old Fashioned

This is my go-to drink. The drink I have when I’m not sure what I want. It was the first drink I ordered the first time I went out with a group of people who acted like they’d been to a bar for something other than a hook-up or a fight. It seemed mature. Grown. It was. Is.

“An Old Fashioned, please.” Rolls off the tongue, don’t it? It does because that’s the way you order one. It’s the closest thing drinkers have to an ancestral language and any bartender that calls themselves a “Bartender” can make one well.

I got lucky that night.