Bookers, it's a tonic

So, it's a tough job, but someone's got to do it. I just got back from a successful, but rather grueling meeting in Incline Village, NV. But if you're going to put in the OT it might as well be in a place as stunning visually as this. Also, a job well done is well rewarded with, in this case, a cocktail. After having actually won money playing roulette, I found myself exhausted, sore footed and in need of something different and fun to perk up. Not being in the least inspired by the wines by the glass, I turned to the cocktail section. Also not appealing since it was heavy with perennials like Apple-tinis, Cosmo-postors and Random Colada also-rans. We pondered for a second, and then it came to me. However, when I summoned the strength to order, the bartender's eyebrows shot up, his expression aghast, "What?!"[WFT was oh-so-implied]; he had interpreted my wan request as: "Pucker Manhattan." I cannot imagine what foul "Big Apple Nasty" concoction, he thought I wanted. I laughed and pointed, "No, Bookers Manhattan!" He smiled relieved and trotted off to whip up a seriously delightful drink. Or I guess at that altitude and Bookers' 124.6 proof, perhaps delightfully serious would be better said. In any case, Bookers http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Booker is not your father's Jim Beam. It's made in small batches, aged 6 -8 years and brings complex smoky aromas and flavors. The smoothness is astonishing given the whallop it packs. Its vanilla edge is greatly enhanced by a little sweet vermouth as called for in a Manhattan. Being a gourmet ghetto girl, I much prefer the foofy Toschi cherries, but a retro maraschino hit the spot anyway. After one of these, we gambled a little more then called it a night. Yes, people this is a tonic!