Our table had a little leather bound menu, I flipped it open curiously to find a list of the bar’s cocktails. I didn’t usually drink cocktails, but then again I didn’t usually engage in kinky conversations with my physicians. It just felt like a night for trying new things. So I perused it, looking for something to take my fancy.
Underneath the usual favourites like Long Island Iced Tea and Sex on the Beach was a section headed ‘House Specialities’. Here was a list of drinks I’d never heard of before, like The Nightmare Before Christmas, a hangover-inducing concoction of pumpkin juice, spiced rum and brandy.
But it was the one below that really caught my eye. A mix of pink grapefruit juice, ginger beer, sloe gin and cherry brandy. It was called a Hot Pink Bottom.
The phrase stuck in my mind, growing louder and louder until it dominated my thoughts.
“I think I deserve a hot pink bottom…” I whispered with a conspiratorial smirk.
“I think so too. Say it out loud.”
My drink, when it arrived, wasn’t quite what I expected. It was served in a tall-stemmed cocktail glass, a cone of vivid pink. In the drink were two objects, the stirrer was an elegant balsa wood rod, curved at the top to resemble a tiny crooked handled cane.
But what really dominated the drink was a long stubby root. I picked it up quizzically by its bulbous end, and found the area that had been below the surface of the drink had actually been shaved of its tough fibrous skin. The root was as long and my middle finger and slightly thicker, and it had been carved to resemble a phallus.
“Is that what I think it is…?”
– from the new festive story, Sandalwood and Ginger
Would you order one?