Audio By Carbonatix
I don’t know if it was the cocktail waitress’s cheerleader voice or the fact that she called me “ma’am” three times prior to actually delivering my drink, but I detested her from the start. At what point do you become a “ma’am” or a “sir”? Yes, I was significantly older than the neophyte waitress who, I’m guessing, had turned 21 the day before, but when you go to a bar, the last thing you want to be reminded is that you are not 21 anymore. I’d dropped by Forest Room 5 — one of those great neighborhood joints that’s just hip enough to be cool without being trendy — at 5:30 p.m. on a Friday looking for a post-work cocktail. The youthful weekend crowds had yet to show up, though, and I felt like the barroom version of the old lady who stops by for the blue-plate special. Then I found the proverbial fountain of youth: a note on the menu promising that “We also have a sexy array of tropical frozen drinks.” My choice, the Guava Fruit Purée ($6), made with Island Oasis Guava Fruit Purée Mix, triple sec and Bacardi Rum, was a delicious little cocktail that gave me quick relief from the waitress’s voice and my observable aging. Suggestion for waiters and waitresses: Don’t call a woman who is under sixty years old “ma’am” prior to getting her a drink. After a drink, maybe. And after two, you can call me Grandma.
