That said, once we bar-goers rise up as one and send these blood-sucking leeches back to their unfinished MBAs, we will have another problem on our hands. What do we do with the legion of talent-free zombie bartenders left without employment in the wake of the Crappy Craft Cocktail Purge? Luckily, a potential solution presented itself later that very same night.
“Want to try something different?” my chucklehead friend asked, after I declined another Last Word
“You know how to make a Glen Matlock?” I replied.
“I’m not sure if I... ”
“You crack open a Genesee Cream ale, then pour in a shot of Jack. Then you pour in another shot of Jack.”
“But... ” I could see a tiny spark behind his eyes struggling to stay alive.
“Stay with me here, this is the important part. You give the can a swirl, then as you start chugging it, have your best friend punch you in the head. Hard.”
“Are you saying... ” the spark was losing. I felt its pain.
“Then it’s his turn,” I said as I saw the tiny spark finally give up and snuff itself out. “All the kids downtown are doing it. It’s the next thing.”