I was drinking with my friend Barney, an Austrian guy who is essentially a mini-cult leader. His cult is comprised of his wife. He has a naturally coercive way with language and people listen to him the way people listened to Hitler or Malcolm X. I was behind the bar testing recipes and he was sitting at the bar in front of our refrigerator on one of the plush maroon bar stools. "Ja, this light from the fridge is too bright." He went on to tell me all the details wrong with the set up of the bar. I was mixing drinks. I was listening, too. The concoction in the glass in front of me was Vodka, a splash of Cherry Brandy, Energy Drink, a splash of Tonic Water, Cranberry Juice, and a drop of Cherry Bitters. I had stumbled on success but neither of us knew it yet. It was just sitting there innocuously, unaware of chaos it would cause multitudes once imbibed. How many tongues it has now loosened, how many blouses it has opened, numbers it has dialed, how many held-in complaints it has unfurled, how many hips it has swayed. I put the glass into Barney's hand. He sipped it while making solid eye contact with me (this was important business we were up to). He put the glass down, "It's almost a masterpiece."-
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