The Place: The Maiden
What Prompted the Visit: Whiskey and Friday night, starting early with Kitty then meeting friends at Clinton Street Pub for continued whiskey abuse. A drunken stumble found us at home where we forwent formality and sipped straight from the bottle while talking to one another in an inexplicable Irish brogue. At some point reason prevailed and we mixed a batch of manhattans (my brand substitutes Chartreuse for Vermouth) in hopes of being more civilized about the whole thing. Fell asleep on the couch listening to Fleet Foxes shortly thereafter.
The Room: It was so damn hot last Saturday that the cool, dim confines of The Maiden were just about perfect. They were actually about twenty minutes away from being open but the kind bartender allowed us to sit anyway. I love the nautical theme here. With just enough grogginess from the night before, it wasn't too overbearing and it also wasn't too earnest. There was a warm, wooden confusion to the room, like it was bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside. But that might be attributed to hangover wall-eye. No smoking, but that's alright considering I smoked my lungs into whimpering submission the night before.
The Bloody: The Maiden's bloody is a tart affair. I'm talking pucker-and-shake tart. I like that kind of bloody mary. It wakes you up with the sheer audacity of vinegar twang. Garnished with a bean and an onion, it was a deep, dark red, as if Neptune himself had opened a brackish vein. It had that kind of salt too. So yeah, heavy on the Worcestershire, heavy on the pickle, horseradish was medium, heat was there but not obstinate.
Affect: General feeling of well being, forgot about the heat and was able enjoy a kid heavy screening of Wall-E without going insane.
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