Sí, An Old Fashioned

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WARNING: If you are under age 21 and in the United States, click away now. 😉

After a 4 mile trek along an edge of Tenerife yesterday afternoon, sometimes working our way through meandering groups of multinational holiday makers often drifting around aimlessly, a bit tired and warm we decided refreshments were in order. We happened to notice a decent looking restaurant with an ocean view. A set of outdoor chairs and a table had our names on them.

We sat and relaxed. Studying the drinks offerings, I noticed the place concocted a new favorite. Although it isn’t Spanish really, I decided I had to have one: Yes, an Old Fashioned was called for.

An unhurried, rather hip, young twenties-something woman server wandered ’round to us and took our orders. The drinks arrived afterwards surprisingly quickly. (My wife had a different drink.) The server having put them down in front of us, after she strolled away my wife pulled out her phone to take a photo, remarking: “Doing your Don Draper impersonation?”

An Old Fashioned, Tenerife, Canary Islands, Spain style. [Photo by Mrs. Nello, 2016.]
An Old Fashioned, Tenerife, Canary Islands, Spain style. [Photo by Mrs. Nello, 2016.]

I smiled. Kinda sorta – given I had my sunglasses on – but not entirely. I have just grown fond of that cocktail. It’s refreshing and not heavy on the alcohol. (I’d had an “English” version some months ago when we were out one evening at home.)

And it was excellent. La cuenta was delivered seemingly moments after we’d requested it. After she put it down in front of me, I noticed the name at the bottom of it: our server had been one “Cristina [Followed by Another Name] [Followed by a Third name].”

We hadn’t spoken much to her. Nor she to us. But she’d been pleasant enough and the service had been good.

“She deserves something, but don’t overtip,” my wife whispered to me. “You know they get salaries here. They don’t expect like in the US, where they have to survive off tips.”

Still, I’ll always be a New Yorker at heart. We tip. And, yes, we often overtip perhaps.

Oh, and based on her three names as shown on the bill, and what they were, I’m willing to stick my neck out here also and presume that, yes, she was indeed Spanish. It was one heckuva great name, too. I made a mental note, and may use it in the eventual fourth Atlantic Lives novel – for a Spanish character alluded to several times in the earlier books. 😉

Yes, from where writers get material. Speaking of books, as for my current manuscript-in-progress? How’s it going, you wonder?

Uh, don’t ask. Authors hate when you toss that question at them. Creativity is not something to be, uh, rushed. 🙂

4 comments

    1. I’ve always “overtipped” I suppose because, while I never waited tables (I’d toiled in a department store in college), I’d had many friends who, like you, did. I know how tough it can be.

      New Yorkers do seem to be famous “overtippers.” I remember my dad once joking with me how in some situation he’d found himself [over]tipping “with both hands.” 🙂

      Like

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