These are his musings…
Says Travis:
I would like to think that am not picky, but I will admit to appreciating the finer things in life, perhaps to an excess at times. I recall fondly a moment in Las Vegas at Nobhill... I am drinking their signature drink, the Cable Car. A wonderfully refreshing cocktail. And as I drink I notice the fine crystal that I am drinking out of. The rim of the martini glass is so precise.
I am reminded of German engineering, and then of a razor, cutting a fine line which is made so precisely I can't feel the incision that has been made, delicately delivering a poison to my lips, leaving me completely unaware of the amount of detail involved in this surgical process. It left such an impression I felt that I must ask the pretty waitress, oh why do I love waitresses so, but I think my inquire was lost in the fact that the fine crystal glass had been filled several times before I could muster a word to this waitress. Who happened to be wearing dark eyeliner, and walked with an assertiveness of someone who has just downed 3 red bulls. From her eyes I imagine it looked something
like this:
This guy at the bar is drinking our cable cars like its buy one get one free at the local dive bar, and I hope he knows these are 15 bucks a pop, but he is dressed well enough, so I keep them coming. When he started drinking them he was polite, thanking me, looking me in the eye, at least making an attempt to not gawk at the ridiculously short skirt I am required to wear... Well after a couple of these drinks he is still polite and has developed this shit eating grin that is typical... Like he has thought of the perfect pick up line and is just waiting for one more drink to gain the courage to lay it on me. And then it happens, I think.
He asks me "Are these things dishwasher safe?"
Have I mentioned that I make it a point to tip well?
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