Drink of the Week: Spring Fever!

Ahhh, the warmth . . . What is that? The seasons have changed? No, we meant the warmth of the champagne hitting our luxurious belly. Wait. We’re drinking champagne? The seasons have changed indeed!

New York in the spring is like Emily Dickinson in the deep and lonely winter: positively in a tizzy. People are talking about cleaning their apartments, about getting new jobs, about finally getting rid of that pesky significant other that’s been following them around for the past 6 years. And, the best part of the new season? Everyone just goes drinking instead!

Yes Ms. Dickinson – we are far to inebriated to stop for death. The only stops that we plan on making this spring are for drunk pizza and when we steal that lady’s adorable puppy while she’s busy flirting with the mailman. When our spry little friend is let out of the sac at home, we can truly bask in the warmth. What is spring without teething new life gnawing on our balustrades?

Hopefully the poetesses among you can get a glimpse of how lovely the warm months can be. Peep at us through your pane glass window. Barfly beckons you – come outside. Loosen up your corset, get a breath of that fresh and sunny air, think for a few moments of all the positive changes that you are going to make happen. Then, exhale and join us at the bar. We all know that the only two things really change: the seasons, and our alcoholic state.

We leave you with a patented Barfly cocktail that is perfect for carriage rides with drunken immortality. As you mix, please know no haste.

Spring Fever! (also known as Its Springtime! and Its just not working, I think its time for a trial separation!):

1 optimistic new goal

A bottle of your favorite alcohol, infused with grass

Nest full of baby birds

Lay on the ground, preferably on a sunny day. Look into the sky, and choose whatever cloud looks the most like your secret dream. If still hung-over from winter, adamantly nod and say “that one!” when you spy the fluffiest.

Start taking swigs from bottle of grass vodka. Claim the cellulose reminds you of “skipping in fields during childhood”. Forget the facts that when you saw someone skipping, you reflexively broke their jaw (thank god they weren’t frolicking). And yes, the abandoned lot full of hobos counts as a field.

Bring nest of baby birds adjacent to your ear and listen to their gleeful song (be prepared to vigorously shake nest until desired result is produced). Sip, and feel all of the grey pessimism of winter slip away. They call it spring cleaning for a reason.