Max and I went to different Universities and met up summers or holidays or sometimes he would come to Miami from North Carolina for a fishing trip. As mostly happens we saw less and less of each other as we moved into our new realms.
One Christmas holiday we decided to go into the City (NY of course) to see what we could get into. We ended up a Trader Vics sometime in the mid hours (9ish) to sample the exotic drinks. My choice was a Samoan Fog Cutter, a fruity drink with rum, gin and brandy, topped off with a little sweet sherry. We sat a the bar and ordered. I don't remember what Max had, in fact I don't remember much about the rest of the evening. I don't know how we got home, or when. I slurped my drink pretty fast and ordered another. The bartender said something like "are you sure you want another of these. They're pretty strong" to which I answered something like "I'm sure." The second Cutter came and during the next interval of time (no idea how long) I finished it and ordered another. This time the bartender was reluctant to give me one, but finally relented. I took a sip and decided I had to go to the toilet. To pee, what else?
The toilets in that particular establishment were located in the basement, down a very long flight of stairs. There was also an attendant to give you a towel or comb or whatever you needed. So anyway, I got inside the loo, found the right place and began. I couldn't understand why the wall was moving. When I finished the attendant asked me if I wanted to sit down in his chair for a little while and that sounded like a splendid idea, so I sat.
Across for the chair was a closet where supplies, I suppose, were kept. The door was closed and had an ordinary doorknob. Except for one thing. It was a magic doorknob. For as I sat and watched it, it slowly began to move upward. It got to the top of the wall and started across the ceiling then "POOF", it was back where it belonged. I observed this mystery for some time and couldn't figure out how the damn thing moved. But move it did. Later, I made my way up the stairs to find my 3rd drink gone and Max waiting for me. The bartender had a smirk and took my payment for 3 Fog Cutters with a big smile. I am sure he slipped me a mickey, the bastard. Days or weeks later I figured out that what was really happening in the men's room. My head was falling backward and my eyes were stuck on the doorknob. Ergo the sensation of me being still and the damn knob moving. The miracle: I didn't get sick. I have never had another Fog Cutter and doubt that I ever will.
Photo: http://flickr.com/photos/88992939@N00/85551340
One Christmas holiday we decided to go into the City (NY of course) to see what we could get into. We ended up a Trader Vics sometime in the mid hours (9ish) to sample the exotic drinks. My choice was a Samoan Fog Cutter, a fruity drink with rum, gin and brandy, topped off with a little sweet sherry. We sat a the bar and ordered. I don't remember what Max had, in fact I don't remember much about the rest of the evening. I don't know how we got home, or when. I slurped my drink pretty fast and ordered another. The bartender said something like "are you sure you want another of these. They're pretty strong" to which I answered something like "I'm sure." The second Cutter came and during the next interval of time (no idea how long) I finished it and ordered another. This time the bartender was reluctant to give me one, but finally relented. I took a sip and decided I had to go to the toilet. To pee, what else?
The toilets in that particular establishment were located in the basement, down a very long flight of stairs. There was also an attendant to give you a towel or comb or whatever you needed. So anyway, I got inside the loo, found the right place and began. I couldn't understand why the wall was moving. When I finished the attendant asked me if I wanted to sit down in his chair for a little while and that sounded like a splendid idea, so I sat.
Across for the chair was a closet where supplies, I suppose, were kept. The door was closed and had an ordinary doorknob. Except for one thing. It was a magic doorknob. For as I sat and watched it, it slowly began to move upward. It got to the top of the wall and started across the ceiling then "POOF", it was back where it belonged. I observed this mystery for some time and couldn't figure out how the damn thing moved. But move it did. Later, I made my way up the stairs to find my 3rd drink gone and Max waiting for me. The bartender had a smirk and took my payment for 3 Fog Cutters with a big smile. I am sure he slipped me a mickey, the bastard. Days or weeks later I figured out that what was really happening in the men's room. My head was falling backward and my eyes were stuck on the doorknob. Ergo the sensation of me being still and the damn knob moving. The miracle: I didn't get sick. I have never had another Fog Cutter and doubt that I ever will.
Photo: http://flickr.com/photos/88992939@N00/85551340
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2 comments:
You know, I think I've seen that doorknob. It was on the patio door of a dive in Vero Beach with a 2 for 1 special on cheap Tequila shooters.
By the way: "cacytoeh" is the secret word for this post. Sounds like it should be in the glossary of an A&P textbook.
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