It takes some nads to roll out a martini at the bourbon capital of the world. But under the cover of darkness, that’s what we did. Martin joined me in keeping the FNM streak alive. My first time ever drinking a martini in Bardstown. It might be the first time any martini has ever been drank in Bardstown. It’s a bourbon town dammit.
I was even wearing my NPR shirt–I was practically begging to get my ass kicked by a gaggle of bourbon-drunk hillbillies. But no ass-kicking ensued and we had a grand evening.
We were camping on Mother’s Day weekend with Martin & Pam, Larry, Rita and me. It was nearly 10:00 by the time we got camp set up and were able to fire the martini’s but we got her done. Ketel One with jalapeno olives.
Nothing wrong with this evening. Nothing at all.
The Martini Tales 