So my friend Mike got me thinking about all the places I’ve had alcohol over the past few years, and I’ve realized I’ve gone to a lot of places. The sheer number of places I’ve ordered beers and martinis has become less and less important to me, really. There was a time when ordering alcohol was somewhat sacred. I only turned twenty-one last November (2006) so how odd is it that I’ve stopped really caring about how many places I’ve gone on weekends or weekdays? Maybe only to me, who likes keeping mental logs of these things, does it matter. A martini seems to be a martini; a beer is a beer. (Or, in Pittsburgh, a Yuengling is a Yuengling.)

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