The first drink doesn’t really count. That’s the ice breaker. The thing that ends the day. John The Baptist with a twist; something to prepare the way. The second drink is where you start to really sculpt the evening. The third is when possibilities begin to surface all round you in the bar and the cool warmth of the liquor slides down your throat, spreads behind your chest, shimmers down your arms, into your hands, and you know everybody’s watching your China Red fingernails tapping the glass. The empty glass. When did it get empty?
Bree Daniels is a writer living in New York.