From Jackie, who digs a gent who makes it a point to remember her drink of choice:
I’m always late. Always. I don’t know if it’s due to an underestimation of how long it takes for me to get from my house to anywhere in the city (5 minutes, right?) or if it’s because the thought of waiting for someone alone in a bar makes me nervous, but 5-10 minutes late is my calling card.
This usually means that on a date, the guy is waiting for me at the bar ordering a drink. This was par for the course with a guy that I was dating last summer. We had been seeing one another for a couple of weeks, which was long enough for him to know that meeting up at 9 PM meant that he’d be getting a text from me at 9 saying I’d be there “soon.”
When I finally made it, he had ordered himself a beer and there was another drink next to him. Thinking that he probably ran into someone he knew, I headed towards the seat on the other side. Wait. No. He patted the seat with the drink and said, “I got you a drink!”
Now the modern girl in me immediately saw this dubious drink as an affront to independent women everywhere. How dare he assume to know what I want? But as I looked a little closer, I realized that it was indeed a whiskey on the rocks. Not only is that my drink of choice, but I took a sip and it was Bulleit. And, it wasn't bourbon; it was rye!
|He knows what's up|
Not only has this man remembered that I love whiskey but he remembered that I prefer RYE whiskeys AND the brand!
Fireworks went off. Cartoon heart bubbles popped. I don’t need a guy to do this every single time we kick it, but the fact that he cared enough to remember exactly what I drink makes me realize that, contrary to popular belief, chivalry is not dead. It has just realized that drinks are more important than flowers.