Click to "embiggen"Ybor City. A rainy evening, a small bar a block off the main drag. Only four tables and six barstools. The bartender can mix whatever you like. A negroni? A sazerac? A manhattan? Just ask him. Or - better - let him ask you what you're in the mood for and take what you get. He's an expert mixologist. Whatever you get, you'll like it.
A group comes in, wearing green, St. Patrick's Day beads festooned around their shoulders, they swarm a table. She pulls her phone out to read a text. She orders a Pabst Blue Ribbon. The bartender rolls his eyes.
She goes outside to return the call, holding one ear closed with her hand. "It's me, Day-juh-nay," she says into the phone, identifying herself. "Where are you guys? We're in this bar." She steps back inside. "What's this place called, anyway?"
Click to "embiggen"Fuma Bella.
Outside the bar, the Ybor City trolley goes past, candy-colored in the night.
"Déjeuner?" Who names their kid after lunch?
3 comments:
Great post! I didn't know they still made Pabst Blue Ribbon!
xoxo
Jane
Negronis are awesome, they always remind me of Caffe de la Pace in Treviso. La Dolce Vita, indeed.
I think your erstwhile friend's name was really Dijonaise, her twin sister's probably named Miracle Whip.
Great photos! And very interesting post!
Post a Comment