Daron's Guitar Chronicles: Vol 4

257 EVEN COWGIRLS GET THE BLUES

EVEN COWGIRLS GET THE BLUES

Thank goodness the lobby bar was still serving. Actually, they looked like they were just about done for the night. There was no clear delineation where the lobby ended and the bar started. It went from being mostly couches to some chairs, to some chairs with low, round tables. The place was empty, and a lone bartender was wiping up behind the bar. She was one of those LA women you see, the sort of former glamor-queen type where they've caked the makeup on to hide their age.

"Can I get something for you, sugar?" she asked, without looking up when I slid onto a stool at the actual bar-bar.

I looked around. We were completely alone. "You know what? I've never learned what I like in alcohol. So I never know what to order."

She looked up, like I'd said something new and interesting she'd never heard before. Which maybe was true. "You got any idea what you don't like? That might give us a starting place."

"Well, I've had a lot of scotch and bourbon, which at least tastes like something, but sometimes I like it and sometimes I don't. Beer is okay if you're thirsty, I guess, but I can't say I really like it. I've heard too many sob stories about tequila for it to sound fun. And people tell me the better vodka is, the less flavor it has, which kind of has me wondering what the point is, then."

She mulled it over, looking up at the ceiling and pursing her lips in a kind of exaggerated manner, but I didn't mind the play-acting. She had a wide ribbon in her hair in a kind of 1950′s style. "Well, you left out gin entirely."

"Huh. I guess I did."

"Why don't we try you with something gin-based then." She looked around at the bottles on a glass shelf behind her. "The classic is a gin and tonic, but if you don't like bitter, you won't like tonic."

"Okay."

"You're too young to like bitter things, anyway."

"I am?"

"Yeah. You see, people lose their ability to taste bitter as they get older, so they start to actually like the bitter drinks. You like grapefruit?"

"No."

"When you get to be my age, they taste like weak lemons." She pulled a blue bottle off the shelf.

"You mean it isn't just that getting older, you get embittered with life and so you start to like bitter things?" I asked.

"Funny guy. Who said it isn't that, too?"

"I suppose." That gave me an idea for a song, though. "Hey, can I borrow a pencil?"

"Here." She handed me a golf pencil and an almost-blank business card, then got out a glass.

"What's the card for?" I asked.

"Oh. Most people who want to borrow something to write with are trying to either give or get a phone number." She took a chunk of lime out of a dish I couldn't see.

"Gee, and I was going to use the tried-and-true napkin." But I jotted down the note to myself on the card and stuck it in my pocket. "So what are you making me?"

"You know anything about vermouth?"

"It's a state north of Massachusetts?" I tried.

"Funny guy. Here's what you need to know. Sweet vermouth, dry vermouth." She held up two bottles. "Drastically different. I'm gonna use the sweet though, and some gin. There's a lotta cheap-ass gin out there. This one isn't as expensive as the name makes it sound, though."