Some Like 21

I like to find out what kind of drink I’ll get

I’ve ordered seven drinks tonight, and yet
Every bet I make is a losing bet.
“A gimlet!” he proclaims
(He always remembers at least some of their names.)
Is bartending an art? Then every drink shames
That strange professional. My alcohol games
Vary so much. A nice glass of white
(sangria, not wine) – is the starter tonight:
sure, the drink is purple to my sight,
but surely it’s Moscato, right?
I hear some drinkers barely care,
As long as there’s a drink out there.
But I don’t drink for oblivion. I don’t dare;
If I ordered Everclear, I know how I’d fare:
“Some Amaretto,” my waiter would smile,
And my 190% vodka he’d defile
With flavors in the kind of incredible pile
Which makes swallowing ever-so-vile.
There’s no drink so simple that my waitery friend
Couldn’t destroy it from end to undrinkable end
Laws of physics and bartending bend
And no palate will ever recover or mend.
But bring it! O, bring it, my dinery pal;
Bring it you will; and drink it I shall.
It’s time for a shootout at the Tonsil Corral,
Drinking’s anesthesia from life’s Root Canal.
Jeff Mach Written by:

Jeff Mach is an author, playwright, event creator, and certified Villain. You can always pick up his bestselling first novel, "There and NEVER, EVER BACK AGAIN"—or, indeed, his increasingly large selection of other peculiar books. If you'd like to talk more to Jeff, or if you're simply a Monstrous Creature yourself, stop by @darklordjournal on Twitter, or The Dark Lord Journal on Facebook.

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