The other night, I went to a local bar in an attempt to drown out the loneliness that had begun to consume me. The idea of going home was almost unbearable, even though I have three loving cats to keep me company, and so I thought surrounding myself with strangers (and drinking excessively) would help ease the pain. It did, sort of, but thankfully a dear friend joined me, and I was able to open up to her (as I always am) and soon I'd forgotten all about the reasons that brought me to the bar in the first place.
As usual, I was drinking an Old-Fashioned (Gentleman Jack - not my favorite, but it was the special of the night), when I happened to turn and inspect the bar's selection of bourbon and whiskey, and a particular bottle caught my eye. It was a rather tall bottle, with a picture of an old-school devil skulking across the front, a cask cradled in his arms, the words "Devil's Share" in bold gold lettering hovering just above him. When I inquired about it, the bartender, Mike, informed me it was a small batch bourbon made in California, and that it was both expensive and exceptionally smooth.
"Do you want to try a shot?" Mike asked me.
"Twenty-four," he replied. "But," he said, removing the bottle from its perch and swirling the amber liquid inside. "I don't think there's even enough for a full shot, maybe half, so I'll only charge you twelve."
At that point, my friend could see the desire swimming in my eyes and insisted Mike pour the "damned shot" and she'd pay for it.
A moment later, I found myself sipping on the smoothest bourbon (on the rocks) I'd ever tasted in my life and all of my sorrows had nearly melted away. I made a mental note to buy a bottle (around $150.00) when I could (I'm a writer who works a day job to pay the bills, so not rich) and laughed through the rest of the evening.
It was the best night I'd had in a long time. Of course, whenever you combine fine bourbon and treasured friends, they usually are.