Adjust my cocktail?

September 8. Day 70.

In this recent string of askings, tonight's will seem monumental, but only because I've set the bar so low recently. So low. With upcoming travels and chances to spend money left and right, I hope to do right by you, o reader.

I went to a bar last night, completely not what I should have done -- and exactly what I needed to do. I'm leaving for two weeks, Mr. A and I haven't had much time together, so between packing and laundry and digging around for my snakeskin flats (finally spotted: in his car) we went out for a drink.

The place we picked, selected randomly because it was the only place open at midnight on a Monday, was a gay bar called Bourbon Street, I think. From the street it was quite calm, but inside there was a clear N'orleans theme.

I tried something new: chambord and tonic. Light, fruity, bubbly. Neither of us wanted to get tipsy, since we had a lot of work left.

The result was something sweet, really sweet, too sweet really, but tolerable if I convinced myself. The question was, should I or shouldn't I convince myself? Given I hadn't asked for anything yet, the answer was obvious.

"Could you adjust this, or make me one with more tonic please?" I asked the bartender.

"This your first time here?"

"Yeah."

"You want something stronger?" He was about 25, muscles bulging from here to Tulsa, wearing a wifebeater.

"No, just more tonic."

Gained: a more drinkable drink. (I don't recommend it. Guess raspberries aren't good in everything.)