Early in my drinking days (they're fuzzy, but most certainly there - those pre-child days), I found myself sick from an over indulgence with whiskey. It's been 10+ years since I welcomed any amber liquor into my system willingly --until very recently.
In the dreaded month of February, you know that asshole that shows up between January and March, I found myself drinking some Maker's Mark . I drank it due only to the fact that per the clubs rules I couldn't order more than one round of drinks per person per hand stamp. I didn't want to lose my place at the front of the club, yet I also wanted drinks. Thus, I stumbled upon the only solution a drinker/nerd can find: MATH. Thereby, 1 shot + 1 beer = 1 drink. Thus, I found myself drinking 1/2 beer and 1/2 shot Maker's with the chef on a rainy night in San Francisco...seriously, more information than that and we gotta be tight.
Much to my chagrin, I immediately thought of the bottle bought for a rockin' party at Costco a while back and I realized I'd served a great deal of Maker's to friends over the last few years never having tried it at all.
Last night, I decided I'd like a glass of that. Not wanting to drink alone, I offered a glass to the chef. Did he want it neat? on the rocks? with water? What?
He looked at me, without pausing, said, "rocks - two cubes"
This is the most unfussy man I've ever met, unless you're talking about food then all bets are off as to whether or not he's fussy or not fussy or whatever. Never in the 12 years I've known him has he ever been so specific in his request. Two Cubes - as though I should know that rocks = two cubes.
Happy St. Patty's Day and hope you find unfussy men where ever you end up,