38
From the pages of Truly’s Drink Recipe Book
The Get-Him-Out-of-My-System Cocktail:
Gin
Pineapple Juice
Sometimes you break not just the rules, but your rules.
You could say it’s because you can’t resist.
But honestly, that’s not the answer.
You’re an adult. You make choices. You choose to relinquish resistance.
You let it fall through your fingers like grains of sand.
You don’t care where the sand winds up. You want what you want.
Even though it’s so much more than want now.
It’s deeper, more intense, and scarier too.
This feeling in your chest? It’s making you rethink everything. And when you feel this way, you need a little gin and some pineapple juice.
It tastes strong and decadent too, like all your desires. Like your dangerous and delicious choices.
Go fill a bowl of popcorn and have a snack with your cocktail.
Yes, a whole bowl.
After all, you can’t eat just one handful. And it’s not because you can’t resist.
It’s because you’re choosing something else.
And because you know this drink name is a lie. You don’t want him out of your system. You want him in it.
You just don’t know how to get that without having the whole friendship burn to the ground.
39
Sully struts into the coffee shop, pointing to his trainers. “Check them out.”
“You took the VaporMax out for a walk?” Troy asks, shooting an incredulous look at his fellow groomsman before smacking his forehead in exasperation. “Lord, what fools these mortals be.”
“First off, no, I did not take my shoes out for a walk in New York City. Do I look stupid?” Sully asks.
I hold up a stop-sign hand. “Don’t answer that, Troy.”
“What? I don’t think he looks stupid. But I do contend wearing expensive shoes in New York City is the height of foolishness,” he says, answering anyway.
Sully jumps in again. “Second, I know that’s from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
The coffee cup nearly slips from Troy’s palm. “Wha . . .?”
I snap my gaze to the sneakerhead who plops down in a leather chair, crossing one leg over the other, his shoes on full display.
“You know where that’s from?” I ask.
Sully scoffs. “I do indeed. Because I knew he was going to call me a fool. I knew he was going to quote Shakespeare to make his point. So I googled Shakespearean quotes on foolishness before I arrived. I was ready.”
“Damn. You are an impressive fella. I have no choice but to high-five you.” I hold up a palm, and Sully smacks back.
“You did that? You went to that level of prep to get my goat?” Troy asks, his jaw agape.
Sully nods, takes a long pull of some kind of coffee drink, and exhales exaggeratedly. “I gamed it. Took my chances when I researched the quotes. I figured it’d be that one or The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. That’s from—”
“As You Like it,” Troy and Sully name the play in unison.
“But see,” Sully continues, clearly enjoying his moment in the sun. “I went with the A Midsummer Night’s Dream one because I figured Troy would go with the simpler quote. The shorter one. Troy is all about brevity. And brevity is the soul of wit.”
Troy’s eyes pop.
Sully slams his hand on an imaginary buzzer. “And that’s from Hamlet, boys.”
“I knew that, and I also know this.” Troy stands, bows, and declares, “We’re not worthy.”
