“He chose … poorly.”

An Old Fashioned is not a drink I’d ordinarily order at a bar. It’s too easy to make at home. When I do order a cocktail, it’s usually something that sounds interesting, using ingredients I don’t have at home. But this was a small hotel-contained bar that had a beautiful row of bourbons lined up on the left and ryes on the right. A New York state bourbon called Hillrock Solera-Aged caught my eye.  After the bartender and I talked about it for a while, I asked if he could make me an Old Fashioned with it. The thin, bald and bearded bartender set about making a beautiful Old Fashioned to perfection.  Some moments later, after complimenting him on a drink that was as visually appealing as it was to drink, I asked to settle up.  The cocktail waitress/assistant bartender handed me the bill.

$26.95?  Was there a mistake?  No, she said.  It was the “additional” bourbon poured for the drink:  2 oz. versus 1.5 oz.  Also, an “administrative fee” (gratuity) of 15% was already figured in.  Surely Paul McCartney was performing an accoustic set of Beatles music and had been priced into the drink. I chose not to be a wise ass about it, but I thought to myself — this was one-half of a cocktail glass filled with bourbon, the bulk of that glass occupied by a large ice cube. This was not a grog-sized margarita filled with the most expensive tequila imported from Mexico. I unfortunately had to face the damage and suck it up.  The lady whispered an apology for the high pricing as I paid and exited quietly.

I thought of the bad guy in Indian Jones and the Last Crusade who drank from the wrong cup, not the “cup of everlasting life” as he hoped, who contently smiled while he drank, only to deteriorate into a skeleton and explode. That was me.  They had me, and they got me.  What can you do?

I got them later though.  I stole one of their hotel pens. I just knocked the bar bill down to $24!

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