The Flim Flam

There's nothing quite as smooth as a smooth-talking barkeep. And, I happened upon one of that elusive bartending breed the other night at the hot cocktail haunt Employees Only: Henry.

He was quite a specimen too. Dapper to a fault and just tipsy enough to make you wish you were having whatever happy elixir he had downed earlier.

We soon were chatting about all things cocktalian - and all things altogether. By the time I was done with my first drink, a Hemingway Daquiri, we had already decided that the "mystery ingredient" in any wonderful wateringhole was this: possibility. He believes that it's something apparent the moment you walk through an establishment's door. I disagree. I think possiblity is in the eye of the beholder. It may be in the room, but if you can't see it...You get the picture.

Any-who, it wasn't long before Henry offered to make me a very special cocktail - The Flim Flam.

Now, there was a possibility I could get into.

He grabbed Raspberry Vodka (not off to a good start in my book), added lime and lemon juices, as well as dashes of a few other secret elements. He shook. And then, with bravado, he poured.

But nothing came out of the shaker.

A Flim Flam indeed.

Henry smiled. And, then offered a drink on the house. I smiled back and said "yes." But this time, I decided to stick to the cocktail menu - and was rewarded with a fragrant, not too sweet Fraise Sauvage, gin muddled with strawberries and topped with a champagne float.

And, needless to say, the rest of my evening seemed filled with possibilities.