Connoisseur

I think I mentioned that when I was in London last weekend our hotel bar was a specialist rum bar. Apparently this was God's way of rewarding me by waiting for a month after my actual birthday to celebrate my birthday with my best friends. Without much persuasion, I convinced my best friends that we should get at least on drink there.

I love my friends, but they can be unadventurous with alcohol at times. Jenny got a pint of Pilsner, Hannah got an orange and cranberry juice. Both of them got a raised eyebrow, and I went to stare at the bottles behind the bar for a while. I discovered that the hotel does not bother to train its staff.

Sofia the bar girl noticed me, and came over.

Sofia: Hi, what can I get you?
Becky: This bar specialises in rum, right?
Sofia: That's right.
Becky: Well, perhaps you could recommend something? I'd like a good rum for drinking over ice, I know I really like Havana Barrelproof and all Appleton Estate rums that I've tried, any ideas?
Sofia: Um... Do you like Bacardi?
Becky: I, uh-
Sofia: Or Morgan's Spiced? A lot of people like that!
Becky: You know, I think I'll just get the barrelproof.
Sofia: Ok... lets see now, where's it gone...?
Becky: It's the one with the blue label, just under the bottle of Gordon's.
Sofia: Oh! Great!

She poured me an admittedly generous double measure, because there wasn't much left in the bottle. She then studied the till.

Sofia: Ok... let's see now, where's it gone...?
Becky, reaching around the bar and tapping the correct button on the register: Here it is.
Sofia: Oh, thanks! I've not been working here very long, haven't quite got the hang of this yet.
Becky: I would never have guessed.

Nice girl. Gormless, but nice. I even tipped her, but then I did get about three shots for the price of two.

I sat down with my drink, and enjoyed the sensation of all the troubles I don't even have melting away. The others declined my offer that they try a sip. All was well with the world.