Font ResizeIt wasn't that he was easily 20 to 30 years older than she, or that she was wearing what seemed to be too flimsy a top for the weather. Nor was it the fact that he was wearing a wedding ring and she wasn't. These are all things that I see everyday, in various combinations. I don't judge, but I certainly do notice.
"I'll have a dirty gin martini," said the dark-haired young woman, with an emphasis on the "dirty" that I was sure was for her companion's benefit.
"Two," he said.
It was still early enough in the evening that my elbows didn't hurt from 100 martini shakings, and for the sun to stream through the windows in that long summer way. Which meant two things - that I could still make the martinis as frosty as possible, and that I could also see clearly. I turned to set the drinks down in front of the couple. With a dirty martini in each hand, I looked at their seating area, spread with what looked like car sale documents on every possible part of the surface.
I had to voice the obvious.
"Would it be possible to move some of that stuff?" I asked politely juggling the two drinks, trying not to break the surface tension on either one.
They looked at me as if I were speaking Spanish.
I gestured with my eyes at the lack of a suitable landing space.
Finally they got it, and made the smallest amount of room possible. With careful maneuvering I
On the surface it was about a car purchase. The employer, the man, was selling a car to his employee, the young woman. Simple, right?
"You'll look superhot in this car."
"You think?" she asked, cocking her head to one side and looking out from under long lashes.
Not an entirely appropriate conversation, nor in an appropriate setting for either one of them.
It was all pretense and manipulation.
"Another martini?" he asked before they were half done with their first one.
"Whatever you like."
It was quite possibly the longest transaction I have ever witnessed. Something that should have taken 10 minutes, tops, stretched toward twilight. It was clear that this wasn't about the car purchase.
She touched his arm often and laughed at even the most painful of his jokes. She sat quietly while he spoke to his wife on the phone and he did the same when she spoke to her significant other.
Periodically they returned to pretense, discussing some minutia about the transaction. Both of them knew exactly what was going on and both played their parts to the fullest.
"Is that the best price I can get?"
"Well, I think we can work something out," he said before fielding another intrusive phone call.
"I'm trying to sell the car," he loudly whispered into a half-covered cell phone. "I'll be home when I'm home."
"It's a work thing," she said into her own half-covered cell phone.
On it on it went until the sun had set and my elbows had begun to hurt. Finally, a mutual cab was arranged, with the whole point of their discussion and rendezvous remaining parked tidily outside the bar.
As I cleaned the remains of their three dirty martinis, I had a few thoughts:
- I usually end car purchases with a handshake - not a prolonged tongue kiss while leaning up against a cab. But then maybe I'm doing something wrong.
- I think that I finally understand what the personal ad stanza "mutually beneficial financial relationship" means.
- There was no shower hot enough to clean up the dirt left by those three dirty martinis.
RECIPE
Jeff's shower-proof dirty gin martini2 ounces Port of Barcelona gin
1/8 ounce Noilly Pratt Dry Vermouth
1/8 ounce green olive brine
2 queen olives
Combine first three ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice. Shake until elbows hurt. Strain into chilled cocktail glass and garnish with olives. Sip while safely knowing that your olive brine hasn't had every bar employee's finger in it, unlike the brine at the local bar. Shower dirt off when finished.
Jeff Burkhart is an award-winning bartender at a Marin bar/restaurant and an author. His columns appear weekly in Here. Contact him at jeffb@thebarflyonline.com.
