| OCR Text |
Show Jeffries, Section 3, Page 74 they're arguing who can buy a round. "These drinks are on. . . no!. . .the drinks are. . .I'm payin. It's a Friday night, and a girl wants to doll up. . ." she explained, but she sat on the barstool bulky and unstylish in culottes. "Another zombie," she said, wheeling on the barman. "She's a rummy," said Grandpa Cunningham. "I want you and your girl," the bartender whispered to Dory, "to be my guest for dinner sometime in the near future. Here, take a couple of these, these certificates entitle you to, Clayton your buddies are spendin' it like there's no tomorrow." "There he goes!" The grandpa was behind the bar with a frowning tiki. "A barrelhouse," he said, "a gin mill." "Tapster!" he called out. "A Tom Collins and a Mickey Finn. Liquoring up. Dutch courage. Chester, there, is got that slam, bang, grin reminiscent of gin and vermouth. But I don't believe in him. Now for Bebop it's sloe gin. Ah, the berry of the blackthorn. And how about for you Miss February, for you I see a pink squirrel. To absinthe friends. Make that one for the road Irish coffee." Bebop had a pony-tail, and the one called Calamity Jane went for the same peroxide blond, but in a bouffant, |
