“I have a face that is a cross between two pounds of halibut
and an explosion in an old clothes closet.”
I don’t usually write about things I haven’t made myself but I must just mention the marvellous “My Man Godfrey” cocktail served in the 5th floor bar of Waterstones, Piccadilly.
On Tuesday I was attending a “spiv” night with readings by the seriously handsome stockabilly. I decided to fortify myself with a cocktail to fend off a possible swooning fit and the first thing I spotted on the menu was a Niven themed number which seemed wholly apt. The waitress poured it at my table with an expert vermouth swirling technique and a chunk of lemon rind squashed around the rim of the glass. Scrumptious.
I have to confess that I had two more after the show and was so squiffy I lost my nice umbrella somewhere on the way home. By way of a contrast, the following night I found myself at a late night drinking session at a tattoo parlour… I wonder how a tattoo of a martini glass would look?

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