Dear Bartender: I have a question for you, but I don’t want to ask it. Maybe you know what it is. Maybe you can answer it without me having to ask it.
Luck?
Dear Luck: Actually, I can sense that you have several questions. Please apply the answers to whichever question they seem most appropriately to answer: 1) Yes; 2) You won’t know for sure for about six months; 3) Lick the bowl; 4) You’re probably using too much cranberry juice.
Dear Bartender: I’m not sure I get it. Where does this “ask a bartender” stuff come from? Few of the questions have anything to do with drinks. Serial killing? Clown drag? Sex with twins and priests? What’s next — sex with twin priests? I just think you should have more focus: Tell people how to make a decent martini for Chrissakes. Leave the “sex with robots” inquiries to the people who are experts on the subject. (Is anyone an expert on having sex with robots? God, I feel bad for that loser.)
Dear Inquisitive: Thank you for your important question about Vitamin D. Good sources include fortified milk and sunlight. Don’t ignore this vitamin! Deficiencies are not just linked to rickets, but also diabetes, certain cancers and even schizophrenia! Ignore this vitamin at your own peril!
And you’re right, of course: people will ask a bartender nearly anything, because they know that bartenders are an astounding resource. The good ones can make you a decent drink; the great ones can see you through your divorce, your second adolescence, the NYTimes Saturday crossword puzzle and middle age.
Ready for the next question!
Ask a Bartender 