The Theory of Cocktail Progression

My trip to the suburbs was quite successful at getting myself into full work mode. The new fall Starbucks music rotation includes "So Nice," among other tunes. I also had time to pick up a new tent for Burning Man at the Tualatin REI store.

Yesterday evening, Red and I decided to try our luck for dinner at Tabor Tavern, about ten blocks down East Burnside from where she lives. We had never been there before, but we had recently put it on our list.

It was lively when we walked in, a somewhat Portlandified version of a family dining and sports bar. There was a wide selection of wine and cocktails, and also two televisions showing football games.

Red, sitting across from me at the booth, looked up at the screen behind me. "Who's C-A-R?" she asked me, squinting at the scoreboard on the screen.

"Carolina," I said. It turns out they were playing B-A-L, the Baltimore Ravens.

The screen in my direction was showing a tennis match. I mentioned that I used to enjoy tennis a lot more when the men's game was ruled by the alpha bad boys like McEnroe and Connors. The new generation of men just didn't cut it for me.

"What about Agassi?" Red asked.

"Oh, Agassi is awesome," I said. "I just heard about his new autobiography. It really made me admire him."

We discussed how he had been married to Brooke Shields, who according to Agassi was an utter airhead. His career went into a nose dive until he divorced her. His manager predicted his game would come back within a year, and he was right. Agassi was back on top.

"It's like how Bruce Springsteen had to dump his wife, the one who was born in Lake Oswego," I said. Red knows the whole story behind that.

For my first cocktail at the Tabor Tavern, I ordered the La Hing Mui, which turned out to come with a martini glass crusted with Li hing mui.  It was far superior to the cocktail Red had ordered. She wound up drinking half of mine.

For the next round, we asked our server for a suggestion. "Where do you go from there?" I asked her, pointing to the empty martini glass in front of me.

She gave us a couple suggestions. Red's came with tequila, mine with with vodka and cucumber soda. It was terrible follow-up choice. I could barely stomach it during my meal.

We both agreed later that it was impossible to go anywhere else on the list of cocktails after the La Hing Mui.

"I guess you just have to order another one," Red said.