I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Vodka is not my friend. Nonetheless, I recently knocked back a few shots of the clear liquid, which had been infused with murderously spicy Fresno peppers, and mellowed by a plate of pickles. And much to my surprise, I didn't gag, puke, stumble or try to walk through a sliding glass door.
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At which bar/restaurant was I reminded about my sordid past?
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