I once went to a pill doctor for an adderall prescription (turned out the issue was hating my job, not my inability to focus) and as he handed me the script, he said, “I always tell people, it’s like learning how to drink a martini: you never start with two.”
The Hotel Vancouver (Vancouver, BC, Canada) was famous for its Beefeater Martinis. Now they would be called supersized. A business friend of my dad’s who worked near me in downtown Vancouver decided it was his duty when I hit 21, which was the legal drinking age at the time, to take me for lunch to the Hotel Vancouver and feed me 3 Beefeater Martinis to celebrate. I can’t remember if there was food. Following lunch he deposited me back at my workplace where I was a receptionist and on the switchboard. I couldn’t even say the name of the company I was sooo drunk. About half an hour back at work, the owner of the company, and my boss, drove me to my boarding house and handed me over to the landlady to put to bed to sleep it off. My dad’s friend thought it was all hilarious. This was 1969! I’ve never had a martini since!
I was inspired to make one after reading this. I'm also a fan of Auntie Mame, I read it when I was 10, and knew immediately that this was the way to live. I prefer vodka, it aint no sin, but had to fetch some Noilly Prat from the local liquor shop. So, I'm sitting here in my gardening clothes, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, wearing some important jewels. The glass is very fine & thin, a gift from my best friend when I was 20something. I still have the box of two that it came in, along with the card, written in my favourite handwriting. I have a supply of green olives & some snacks. Tonight I plan on roasting a chicken, so I'll make myself another, as a toast to that !
Shamefully, few bars make Gibsons anymore, even in high end joints. Oh, how I love those little onions perking up my Titos beneath the crackly skim of ice across the surface. (Shaken, not stirred.)
It’s both enjoyable and insufferable to watch as the youth’s claim knowledge that is of the ages as their own. I guess maybe it was already said better by someone else: “Slow down, you move too fast, you got to make the moment last.” Are you feeling groovy?
I once went to a pill doctor for an adderall prescription (turned out the issue was hating my job, not my inability to focus) and as he handed me the script, he said, “I always tell people, it’s like learning how to drink a martini: you never start with two.”
Great piece, but a vodka martini is not a martini…
okokok I knew the Gin Lobby would arrive !!!!! 🍸🍸🍸💌💌💌
Gin
Wet
Twist
I felt drunk after reading this, in the best way possible. Now where’s my martini glass
Excellent piece, thank you. Short, sharp, highly enjoyable. Martiniesque.
I am going to do a tasting test between a gin and a vodka dirty martini…..it’s ok, I’ll wait until this evening and enjoy it in the garden!
Loved this writing and your ideal martini is spot on
exactly the sliver of hope i needed on a monday morning. thank you
Martinis are like breasts, one is not enough and three are too many! 🥳
I’ll be stealing this one
The Hotel Vancouver (Vancouver, BC, Canada) was famous for its Beefeater Martinis. Now they would be called supersized. A business friend of my dad’s who worked near me in downtown Vancouver decided it was his duty when I hit 21, which was the legal drinking age at the time, to take me for lunch to the Hotel Vancouver and feed me 3 Beefeater Martinis to celebrate. I can’t remember if there was food. Following lunch he deposited me back at my workplace where I was a receptionist and on the switchboard. I couldn’t even say the name of the company I was sooo drunk. About half an hour back at work, the owner of the company, and my boss, drove me to my boarding house and handed me over to the landlady to put to bed to sleep it off. My dad’s friend thought it was all hilarious. This was 1969! I’ve never had a martini since!
You, my dear Marlowe, were created for Friday lunch at Galatoire’s! And, well, lunch any day at Commander’s. What a delightful piece, thank you.
True NOLA!
Icily droll and perfect.
I was inspired to make one after reading this. I'm also a fan of Auntie Mame, I read it when I was 10, and knew immediately that this was the way to live. I prefer vodka, it aint no sin, but had to fetch some Noilly Prat from the local liquor shop. So, I'm sitting here in my gardening clothes, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, wearing some important jewels. The glass is very fine & thin, a gift from my best friend when I was 20something. I still have the box of two that it came in, along with the card, written in my favourite handwriting. I have a supply of green olives & some snacks. Tonight I plan on roasting a chicken, so I'll make myself another, as a toast to that !
Shamefully, few bars make Gibsons anymore, even in high end joints. Oh, how I love those little onions perking up my Titos beneath the crackly skim of ice across the surface. (Shaken, not stirred.)
It’s both enjoyable and insufferable to watch as the youth’s claim knowledge that is of the ages as their own. I guess maybe it was already said better by someone else: “Slow down, you move too fast, you got to make the moment last.” Are you feeling groovy?
A marvelous read.