Bartending Blues

Chanti sighs sadly as he wraps a carrot muffin neatly into a napkin and places it alongside a chopped salad and a bottle of juice in a metal lunchbox. Ivan had told him the previous evening that he was going to pull an all-nighter in his studio, and Chanti thought it would be nice to pack his boyfriend a lunch. At least one of them would be eating well. Unfortunately for Chanti, Ivan being gone for the evening meant that dinner was most likely going to be dry oatmeal or something equally depressing. It was for the safety of their burrow that the couple came to the mutual decision that Chanti should be forbidden from using the stove- the yellow bun was notoriously tragic in the kitchen.

Even worse than his meal situation was the question of what Chanti was going to do all by himself, all night! He knows from experience that his hand can only keep him occupied for an hour or so. While he’s mulling this over, Ivan comes down to say goodbye. Chanti gives him his dinner and a kiss on the cheek. In return, Ivan gives him a hug and a flier. Chanti takes the chance to read it after Ivan has left.

“LEARN FROM THE BEST BARTENDER IN BURROWGATORY!!!!! HOPS IS NOW OFFERING BARTENDING CLASSES AT THE RABBIT HOLE*! *Note: Successful creation of a drink is not guaranteed, carats are due upon initiation of lesson.”

Well, that sounds like a wonderfully pleasant evening to Chanti. He considers himself to be a kindred spirit with Hops, a fellow alcohol aficionado. With the requisite carats in hand, the yellow bun trots off to Wonderland Casino to meet Hops at the Rabbit Hole bar.

Thankfully, the bar isn’t too busy and the bartender can spare a moment to give him his lesson. “Okay Chanti, so you say you’re a fan of my drinks. Which one is your favorite?”

Chanti takes a moment to consider. “Well, ah admit ah’m mighty partial ta yer Hopscotch.”

Hops smiles. “Good choice! This one isn’t too hard for beginners, you just have to make sure the proportions are right and that you don’t stop stirring until it’s ice cold! Observe.” Hops gathers the ingredients for the drink from the bar and sets them out in the order in which they should be added. Then, with the skill of a practiced bartender, she adds the ingredients in perfect proportions and stirs the drink as fast as a blender, yet doesn’t spill a drop. Finally, Hops expertly serves the drink, garnished as neatly as you please. “There we go! Not too hard, I think. Do you want to try, Chanti?”

Chanti nods sagely and takes note of her technique. “Yep. Ah think ah got it. Stand back, little lady. Yer about ta witness a mixological prodigy.” Chanti picks up the first bottle and begins to mix the drink with much more flair than Hops did. He tosses the liquor bottles to himself in sort of a half juggle, pours them from behind his back, and even imitates a celebrity chef when adding the secret ingredient, crying “KAPOW” as he sprinkles it in.

Alas, pride, as they say, comes before the fall. Chanti, emboldened by his other strokes of luck, tries for a trick pour into the provided rocks glass. Hops, after having borne witness to the whole ridiculous display leading up to this, just covers her face with her hands. Surprising absolutely no one except Chanti, the mixing glass balanced on top of his head topples off and smashes against the bar, covering the pride bun in his own drink.

When she recovers from her secondhand embarrassment, Hops hands him a bar rag. “Okay, you have potential, but how about sticking to the basics first?”

“Yes ma’am,” Chanti responds, wiping off his face and looking thoroughly cowed. Hops has him re-attempt the drink. Normally, she stresses. This time, it goes much better and Hops deems this lesson a success. Chanti is sent off with a book of recipes and a pouch of Hops’ secret ingredient, thankfully without breaking any more glassware.

(687 words)