Well, if I'm going to have any, I'll have to google what tf it is and how tf to pronounce it.
It's armagnac. Guess it's been sitting there for a while. Does no-one like it? Well, now it's got my name on it, literally, marked with a grease pen and stored in the mesh-wire cabinet on the back bar, secured with a two-pin lock and silly looking key.
I'll order it by the finger, like an old man.
Be sassy and I'll make sure the bartender pours some out for you.
Well, if I'm going to have any, I'll have to google what tf it is and how tf to pronounce it.
Curious as to what other dusty bottles might be sitting there, available for purchase, or at least a discounted pour? Perhaps a cynar or some yellow chartreuse? Or a old scotch whose label has long since been worn away leaving the lineage of liquor uncertain or, at least, unspecified.