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The Old Fashioned. It’s a strong drink with a hint of sweetness. Created in the 1800’s in Pendennis Club which is in Louisville Kentucky. It was said to be inspired by a big time bourbon distiller. You can almost taste the humid earthness of that part of the world when you use a bourbon like Four Roses.

There are two types of people that order it in my bar. The one that has seen it on Mad Men and nine times out of ten grimaces on the first sip and asks for a beer instead. Fucking hero. Then there’s Jack.

“You weren’t thinking that when you let him put his willy in your FANNY!” Jack’s a regular. Quiet type. Pete, another bartender, looked at me. His face was twisting as he tried to contain his laughter. “He said willy and fanny, is he a ten year old?” I looked over at Jack repeating that line ad nauseam into his phone, grateful that the bar was empty.

“Poor bastard.”

“You do know that fanny means vagina here?” I wanted to punch him in the face but remembered to breathe through the anger like the app told me to. Sarah said I need to control my outburts or else she’s gone.

“My wife of eight years is Irish, I know what a fanny is.”

“Of course you do!” He nudges me and winks like this is bonding time. I’m his fuckin’ boss.

“Take your break.”

“Grand, catch you later.”

I stay behind the bar and walk over to Jack, even in situations like this a bartender has to have a boundary and that’s the bar. I will be your counsel and your comic foil but I’m not your friend, ever.

“Hey Jack.” He stops his childish mantra, I can tell she hung up a long time ago.

“I’m sorry.” The man is crumbling in front of me as I fix him his drink. He stares at me making it and that’s OK, stops the madness. The orange has to be cut at an acute angle or else it’s a failure. I’ve OCD so this job is both a cure and a living hell depending on the day.

“What’s up buddy?”

“She’s been screwing my best-mate.”

“Shit.”

“She used my laptop to charge her phone and I saw the photos… I saw the photos of them, sick photos.” I slide him his drink and he takes a larger gulp then usual.

“On the house.”

“Thanks.” I spend the next hour looking at him drink like a breastfeeding baby and then he’s gone.

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