Repeal Day - The Wreckoning Pt. 2

As I left The Ambassador I knew in my heart it was time to go to the first church of booze - My good and kindly friend Absinthe. As I sat on the train I was flipping through their extensive cocktail list in my mind (I might have it memorized, you wanna make something of it?). Upon arrival I was horrified to find the place was packed. Nary a seat was to be had for my disheartened ass. There was nothing left for me to do but to shuffle onward. As I trudged up Market St. I figured I would go ahead and hit the next place I had on my list. But wait, what's that shimmering glow in the distance? Good lord, how could I have forgot?

Orbit Room - The Orbit Room is a bar that seems to have the knack of almost continually being off my radar for some reason. It's a shame, as the place in which the infamous Alberta Straub once plied her excellent craft continues to make good, intriguing drinks. Looking over the menu I saw numerous drinks that peaked my interest (must keep orbit room on my radar!), however I was stopped in my tracks when I spotted the Express Jet. Described as a Gimlet with St. Germain and Green Chartreuse it was as though somebody had delved into my soul and extracted exactly the sort of cocktail I wanted. The herbal spice of the Chartreuse blended well with the floral sweetness of the St. Germain making for a very lovely Gimlet variation indeed.

As I left Orbit Room I began to see cracks showing in my master plan. Mainly, I was starting to get drunk. This, it occurred to me, was the perfect time to take a break from the cocktails and get back in touch with my white trash roots.

Thieves Tavern - So, I'll admit I'm totally biased when it comes to this place as it's my regular non-cocktail joint, and I know far too many of the employees for my own good. No celebration of Repeal Day would be complete without a stop here for some shitty beer and a shot of Jameson. As you can see from the picture, I was able to get some other folks in on the Repeal Day celebration via forced shot consumption. As I was sipping my beer, the bartender, who once spent a few years working in New Orleans, decided that I absolutely had to have a Sazerac. Not wanting to appear disagreeable I consented. The bar (sadly and for some strange reason) lacks Absinth and any substitutes so once again Green Chartreuse appears in my evening. It was absolutely perfect, everything a Sazerac should be. The use of the Chartreuse added an interesting change as the more herbal notes merged quite finely with the Rye. Upon finishing the drink there was no doubt in my mind that I had to go. There was so much to do after all!

Elixir - How could I not drop by the scene which gave birth to this very blog? Also, Ed (having not been able to join me) was there, and meeting up to continue the celebration seemed like a fine idea. Right about the time I arrived I realized that the drunk meter was starting to red line. I, however, was undeterred. It seemed like the time was right to go for one of my favorite drinks of all time, the Old Fashioned. Ben was working behind the bar and quickly served me up a perfect example of this damn fine drink. I took a few sips and had a moment of perfect clarity. Shit!, I thought I really need to get the hell out of here. I drank my drink a wee bit faster than advisable given my growing condition and bade my companion a hasty farewell.

As I headed towards the train that would take me home I still had conviction that my night wasn't over. I had it all figured out - Once back in my neighborhood I'd pop into Finnegan's Wake for a Beezer, then down the road to Alembic for some sort of tasty nightcap. It was perfect. It was flawless. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Then I got off the train. As it pulled away I looked down the street at Finnegan's and hesitated. My liver was asking me to please just stop, and my eyes had decided that regardless of what I wanted to do they were going to go ahead and go to sleep. Powerless against the wretched betrayal by own organs I acquiesced and headed home, silently cursing their weakness.

Thus did my Repeal Day end. Not with a whimper, but with a turkey sandwich and a bottle of diet Pepsi.

If you want to share your own Repeal Day celebrations fire up a comment or send us an e-mail at drinkaweek [at] gmail [dot] com.