“Really drink. Sure, I’ll have a beer or two with a burger or a steak. But sit at a bar and down the hard stuff? Not for me. Usually. If I’ve lost a case or a woman, I’ll head to the Gaslight Lounge downtown and watch Mickey Cumello make a martini. Plymouth gin, two and a half ounces give or take a drop, four ice cubes, and a splash of dry vermouth. He stirs with a glass swizzle because shaking clouds the drink. Then Mickey strains the potent concoction into a chilled glass. Finally,... he squeezes a lemon peel above a burning match, letting the oil pass through the flame and into the drink. The perfect martini—sharp as a polished blade—with just a hint of burnt lemon. Okay, so I don’t just watch him make the martini. But I seldom drink more than two. Sometimes, I tell Mickey Cumello my problems. He’s a good listener. Quiet, attentive, thoughtful. I’ve never seen Mickey in the light of day and probably wouldn’t recognize him if he came out from behind the scarred teak bar.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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