by Michael Todd
I feel like it’s 1993 again.
So, I’m up here, hanging out with a LOT of guys sitting at tables with friends or at the bar who have been golfing for the last four hours. One guy is working on his laptop, and I hear a mom and (maybe two?) young girls at the table on the other side of the seats that block my eyesight.
OH! I also see an older couple (gray-haired) a few tables away from me.
It’s a happening place, I assure you.
I think of myself as a younger person, but I have a lot of gray sliding in between all of my brown hairs (as if the enemy were infiltrating the castle walls and the defenders don’t know it.)
Further, I take naps in the afternoon now.
Future Mike, when you read this particular note, you might want to remember to NOT go down the “I’m young” and then talk about how you look or nap. It will depress you.
I’m young on the inside. I still make shit up for a living, enjoy laughing, and haven’t told anyone to get off my lawn (that I can remember.)
Once I sell this house (which has a lawn), I won’t have to worry in Las Vegas. Because It’s a condo.
I have no lawn.
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Ad Aeternitatem,
Michael Anderle
Nobody Drinks That Much
Soldiers of Fame and Fortune Book Three
Chapter One
Off-duty, the French military looked no different than the droves of off-duty Americans Holly had seen on the US’s base. She was standing outside the cigar shop chatting with a young French sous-officier, a merechal des logis, whose name was Ames. Holly was trying to get information about the Zoo, but he was a pretty good-looking guy, too. He wore his hair a little longer than the American soldiers, and it was blond and wispy. His eyes were bright blue, and his smile was right out of a toothpaste commercial.
The French guys were intriguing. They were always put together, and always on duty even when they weren’t. It almost made Holly feel safe. An army from the most romantic place in the world was waiting in the wings to scoop her up and save her from danger. Of course, that notion could have come from the romance novel she’d read last night while she was trying to fall asleep. In any case, she was impressed by the soldier.
Ames stood there with his hands in the pockets of his khakis. His black T-shirt had been pressed, and it stretched tight over his muscled arms. “He took the corner fast, gun high and adrenaline pumping. He was so far gone that he could have run over a goddamn elephant and he wouldn’t have known. He pressed his finger to the trigger, and pow. He blasted the giant ape-thing to shreds. They say all that was left was the thing’s teeth and a pile of flesh and fur. And of course, a signature liquor bottle. Empty, as always.”
Holly’s mouth hung open for a moment, then she cut her eyes at him and shook her head. “No way. I don’t know how anyone could believe that. Who would decide it was a smart idea to walk in there three sheets to the fucking wind? I mean, I’ve done brave shit while drunk—don’t get me wrong. But when morning rolls around, even I can admit it was usually more embarrassing than brave. Like the time I stumbled into a Doctors Without Borders office in New York, and the next thing I knew I was on a plane for New Guinea. That was tough to explain. They kept calling me Doctor Shadow Boxer and I never did find out why.”
Ames laughed. “I’ll have to remember that next time—a new nickname for you! Ah, I wish I was kidding you, but I’m not. This was about ten years ago, and it was fucking nuts. Legendary and goddamned stupid at the same time. It was the first story I heard when I arrived. My CO likes to scare the newbies, but this had the opposite effect. We were fucking amped. The more he drank, the better he got. No one could figure it out, and no one has been able to duplicate it. I’ve heard stories of the idiots who attempted to, and I will not soon forget them.”
Holly moved to the side of the road as more people trudged down the sandy streets. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The mercenaries out here just keep getting wilder. This one, though? That’s crazy.”
Holly took a deep breath and squinted at the sun. She realized she had been standing there for quite a while. “Well, Ames, it was good talking to you. I’ve got an appointment of sorts. Be careful out there in the thick. If you see me around, don’t be a stranger. Oh, and watch what you drink before you go in.”
Ames shook her hand and flashed his commercial-grade smile. “You shouldn’t be a stranger either, Doctor Shadow Boxer. Stay safe, and make sure to ask about that guy. There is so much more to that crazy ass. There are probably stories even I haven’t heard yet.”
Holly laughed to herself as she walked to FUBAR. She didn’t doubt the validity of Ames’ story, but she was definitely going to ask about it when she got inside. She opened the door, scraped her boots, and walked through the archway, but halted immediately. JB was standing behind the bar, arms crossed, his eyes on the clock on the wall over the liquor bottles. There was a group of seven or eight assorted unsavory types standing around her rented stool.
She narrowed her eyes and stomped forward, not having any of it. Holly waved at JB, who chuckled at her short stature compared to the giant men before him.
Holly scowled. “What the hell?”
She squared her shoulders, gritted her teeth, and pushed through the guys. They grumbled and cussed at her, but finally stumbled to the side. “Come on, people, move it! Don’t make me pull out my Chemical Credentials and poison your asses! I’ll make up some shit that will make you go running down the street buck-naked.”
“Sounds fun!” Paula yelled from somewhere beyond the crowd.
Holly huffed and yelled at the ceiling, “Not now, Paula.”
She continued to push through, and when she found herself face-to-face with a very tall man, she flashed him a sweet smile and stomped on his foot. When he flinched and grabbed his boot, she darted through the hole he made and slid into her seat. “This is my stool!” She glared daggers at the man behind the bar. “I thought you were renting me the chair?”
JB shrugged helplessly. “These guys thought I might give them your drink if you failed to show.”
Holly pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Would you have?”
“No.” JB winked at the crowd. They groaned and turned to go back to their various tables. “I didn’t tell them I wouldn’t, either.”
Holly shook her head. “Assumptions.”
JB grabbed a glass. “That’s the way of the Zoo. You never know anything, and you can’t make any assumptions. Of course, we discussed that in detail on day one.”
Holly flinched. “Yeah, I remember. I made an ass of myself. Of course, you followed up with an assumption later on, if I remember correctly.”
JB’s eyebrows came together. “Hmmm. You may be correct, but I’ll need to see the tape. No tape, it didn’t happen. I can’t preach it if I can’t follow it.”
Holly rolled her eyes. “Typical male behavior. Act like you walk on water but never fail to point out a woman’s flaws.”
JB paused. “Now who’s being presumptuous?”
Holly looked at the bar top and ran her finger over it. “I’m just going with what history has proven time and again, my friend. Blame your male cohorts for that one. We ladies just follow the evidence—or we willfully ignore it and complain about it later.”
JB chuckled as he poured a drink.
“Whatcha making?” Holly tried to look around him but he moved slightly, hiding what he was mixing. “Is it for me?”
JB flashed a smile at her. “It is for you. I was up last night and couldn’t sleep, so I started coming up with ideas for new signature drinks. This is the first place I’ve tended bar where grown-ass men will let me make them a mixed drink, fruit and u
mbrella and everything, and come back for seconds. I figure I better broaden my horizons, recipe-wise. Seeing as how you are a chemist, I figured you could try it out and tell me what you thought.”
“Oh, I see. You’re just using me for my brains.”
“That and your exquisite taste buds. Besides, this one is on me.”
“If I’m going to be a guinea pig, I drink free?”
“Right.”
“Well, at least I don’t have to pay to be tortured.”
“Excuse me? Not tortured, experimented on.” JB turned. He set a rocks glass filled with a green liquid on the bar.
Holly took one look at the drink and wrinkled her nose. “I want you to take some time tonight and look through a history book. Check out the references to experimentation. I bet you’ll find the word torture in there somewhere. Let’s get this over with. What’s in this thing?”
JB leaned forward. “That’s for me to know and you to figure out. Just try it. I want a full report. Start with whether you like it or not.”
Holly arched an eyebrow as she picked up the drink. The green stuff seemed like it might start smoking and maybe even talk to her. After a moment she carefully took a sip. She smacked her lips and winced, then shivered. “Interesting. Tart, but sweet at the end. I like it.” She sounded surprised. “Anyone who likes to torture their taste buds will love it.”
JB rubbed his hands together. “Can you tell what’s in it?”
Holly took another sip and closed her eyes, rolling the liquid around in her mouth. “Let’s see. I would say from the low ethanol point, and the hidden twang of citric acid, this has a vodka base. But you can barely taste that part. The tartness is obviously apple pucker. Let’s see, there is some sort of fruit juice in this, but it doesn’t have much sweetness to it.”
A few loners at the bar tilted their heads toward Holly, waiting to hear more.
She took another sip and looked JB in the eyes. “Oh yeah, this is definitely a bergamottin heavy fruit juice. Which, interestingly enough, has a compound called furanocoumarins in it which inhibits the uptake of certain drugs in the system, like antihistamines and ADHD medications. If you’ve got allergies, steer clear of this one.” She thought for a moment. “Yep, that’s definitely grapefruit juice. But there is something sweet in there.” She tapped her lips, looking over the bottles behind the bar. “Something very sweet.”
JB studied her, trying to find out how her mind worked. “There is, but what is it?”
Holly nodded to herself. “Got it. From the almost unnatural sweetness, the color, and the smell of pure sugar radiating from it, I would guess grenadine. Yeah. You put grenadine in and swirled it around the bottom to conceal the color. It soothes the pucker effect I got from my initial sip. It’s like a pure sugar chaser.”
JB clapped his hands together, his face cracking wide in a smile. “Hot damn. Could’ve used you when I was making up the menu.”
Holly chuckled. “Oh yeah, I could have made your from-the-can nacho cheese win a couple Michelin stars.”
JB ignored the comment. “So, do you like it?”
Holly pushed the drink toward him. “It’s good. Not my style, but these asses will pound it and not even realize they are drunk for an hour or so.” She chuckled. “You can watch the train wreck happen in slow motion.”
JB slid it to one of the guys down the bar. “On me.”
The guy nodded in thanks, lifting the glass. “About damn time you got some new drinks in this place. That lady’s a gem. You should try some more experiments. I want to hear what she has to say about them.”
JB pointed at Holly. “You up for it? I’ll make shots, not drinks, so you don’t get wasted in the first hour you’re here. Give me your honest opinion, but remember,” he pointed to her left and right, “these assholes would drink piss if it got them drunk.”
Holly thought about it and shrugged. “Sure, why not? It’s a welcome change of pace. I am actually doing my job out here. Who knew that would happen?”
JB started pulling shooter glasses from a cabinet. “You do this for a job?”
Holly wiggled her hand in an uncertain gesture. “Sort of. Right now I’m in the field, but that’s how I got started with my company. I taste-tested their creations and broke them down.”
JB began concocting three different shots. “That’s the kind of job college students dream of.”
Holly scoffed. “And by the time you hit thirty, you’re either walking around in a state of perpetual inebriation or you gag every time you’re around liquor. Personally, I took a middle road. I uncork a nice bottle of red wine and put my feet up. Different tastes and smells.”
Holly tapped her feet on the footrest on the bar and looked around. It seemed to get busier every time she came in. The atmosphere was different too. If she wasn’t imagining things, it was almost like people were coming in because JB was telling stories.
The roughnecks’ attention had definitely shifted from their normal debauchery.
After a few minutes, JB turned back to her with all three shooters in his hands. He set each one down and smiled. Holly chuckled as she took an initial sip from each glass. “Hmm, three very different tastes. Nice. You’re really putting my ass to the test.”
Paula yelled from the back of the room, “That’s what she said.”
Holly laughed, turning slightly in her chair. “Yeah, when I bent your mom over the bar.”
The place erupted in laughter. Paula nodded appreciatively as she delivered drinks to thirsty customers. “Touché. I like this chick.”
JB crossed his arms. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t challenge you?”
Holly laughed. “Is that what this is? Just a good old friend of three days encouraging me to be better? I guess it beats girl-talk and gossip.”
JB nodded. “I would agree with that. I’ve never been one for the gossip. I like my stories to be grounded in fact.”
Holly picked up the first shooter and toasted him. “What are friends for?” She took a sip and closed her eyes. She tried to examine each flavor individually. “Hmm. Lactones, okay. A sweet array of esters? Got it. There’s a hint of synthetic malic acid… right. And then the aftertaste. Wait, what is that?”
JB chuckled along with the other guys at the bar. “I don’t have a good goddamned clue what she’s saying. but I feel like she’s on the right track.”
Holly smiled and opened her eyes. “Got it. This is a whiskey-based shooter with a sweet ester giving it a hint of apple. That hint is then expanded by the apple juice, which is processed but I think I taste McIntosh. To top it all off, you swirled some blue curacao on top. People don’t realize that stuff is not blueberry, but a citrus-based liquor. I guess it’s the color. Now, on to the second. Don’t tell me if I’m right until the end.”
JB ran his fingers along his lips, zipping them. He kept his face straight.
Holly took a sip of the second shot and chuckled to herself. “This one is simple. Again with the low ethanol point, so it’s vodka. Then we have an interesting fusion of citric acids and more sugar-planted fruits, so I would say it’s a fruit punch of some sort. Something pure and untouched by factory hands. Then you have an interesting effect, a thick layer of mango puree on the bottom, a sweet but natural chaser.”
JB chuckled and nodded at the last one. “And the third?”
She smiled and took a drink. “Wow! Oh, that one’s different for sure. This base is obvious. Distilled juniper berries. No other liquors have this taste. It’s gin. There is a bubbly additive, but it’s not sweet. I can taste the salt particles on my lips. I would say tonic water, not soda water. Then there is something else. It’s nice. That last kick makes the drink, elevates it from that Christmas tree flavor.” She closed her eyes and opened her lips. “Wait. Oh, wow, this one is difficult. Sugary but not overloading.” Holly opened her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. “Is it watermelon?”
JB’s shoulders relaxed. “Close. It’s an elderberry liqueur I pic
ked up last week. Damn, you got the first two dead-on and the third you only missed by one ingredient.”
The bar broke out in applause. Holly stood and took a small bow. “Oh, you know, all in a day’s work. I’m here to make sure you love every last drop. Your cheap beer-loving taste buds are suddenly very picky.”
JB pointed at the shooters. “You want these?”
Holly shrugged. “Why not? When in Rome, right?”
She took all three shots back to back and winced at the last one. “Whew, that one is definitely not made to be a shooter.”
JB laughed. “No, it’s not. You want your usual?”
Holly twisted her lips. “If you are referring to a story, yes. If you are referring to the drink? I think I’ll start out with a virgin screwdriver this time.”
“That’s basically orange juice.”
“Hey, that was a lot of taste testing just now, and it’s only noon.”
Chapter Two
Holly tried to be patient as JB cleaned up the various liquors and additives he had used to make the shots. The bar was loud. Everyone was talking, but they were all waiting for JB to start his story. Holly definitely wanted a story, but she had a specific story in mind. The only problem was, she didn’t actually know his name. She knew being impatient would get her nowhere. In the short time she had known JB, she had learned he enjoyed making people wait. Teasing them. She was pretty sure he was taking his sweet-ass time simply because he knew that she was waiting.
After cleaning the counter, JB walked down the bar and started talking to a pair of guys at the end. Holly tried not to look like she was listening, but she totally was. JB took a deep breath and put his hands on the counter. “I heard about Rigaud. I’m sorry about that. He was a nice guy.”
The weary-looking man chewing tobacco shook his head. “That was his problem. He was too nice. Wanted to help everyone, and that’s what ultimately got him killed. Damn sonofabitch didn’t even die for his own men. We came upon some young mercs caught in a battle with a dino. Thing was at least ten feet tall. He didn’t even know what hit him when the tail came down. Stupid motherfucker.”