Page 8 of Notes About Vodka

“No, I am not.”

“Yeah, you are. You never pay attention to Dr. Marsh or his lectures.”

“Well, what am I doing then?”

“Ha. You are usually playing some sort of game. I’m pretty sure the last one is calledBeach Boombecause I’ve played it myself a few times. My best friend Rhea and I had a bet that eventually I would get you to say hello back, but I lost when I conceded that you must be oblivious to the entire world. Or just rude.”

What?! I’m oblivious to this siren? And rude? How is it that I’ve never noticed her before? I mean, the class is at 8 a.m…

Typically, on mornings when I have early classes, I stay awake after my bar shift. I’m usually so fucking tired that, yeah, I guess I do focus on my phone too much in an attempt to stay awake.

“Well, let me be the first to apologize. And here,” I pour us a second shot and pass it to her, “this is one of my favorites.”

We clink our glasses again, and as she shoots back the vodka, she hums and smiles.

“Oh, wow, this has such a…oh, I don’t know… fruitiness, but not like strawberries, something more tart,” she exclaims.

“It’s the grapefruit. This is Ciroc—very smooth with a bit of a pinch of acid. The last I poured was Tito’s, perfect for mixing with anything because there is very little aftertaste,” I explain.

“Well, they are both very tasty.”

“Thanks. It’s my job to know about drinks, and vodka being my favorite, I try to learn as much as possible. It’s one of the reasons I’m in chemistry right now.”

“Yeah? Tell me some quick facts then,” she teases.

I take a deep breath, ready to dive into my vodka knowledge with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. “Well, vodka, you see,” I start, my Russian accent thickening as I get more excited, “it’s typically distilled from grains or potatoes, but it’s not just those! Vodka can also be made from other ingredients, like grapes or even milk. Yes, milk! It’s called ‘milk vodka’ in Russian, or ‘moloko vodka’—very interesting, da?”

I notice her eyes widening, so I keep going. “Vodka has to be distilled at least three times to be considered pure, but—here’s a fun fact—the more times it’s distilled, the smoother it tastes. You know, ‘potomu chto’—because it removes more impurities! There’s a famous Russian saying: ‘chistota — zalog zdorov'ya,’ which means ‘cleanliness is the key to health.’ And that’s why we distill it so much!”

I can’t help but let my excitement show, and I add, “Oh, and did youknow that technically, vodka is supposed to be completely neutral in taste? Yes, it’s supposed to have no flavor at all! That’s the whole idea, you see. It’s supposed to be ‘bestsvetnyy',’ which means ‘colorless,’ but also flavorless. It’s all about purity and smoothness.”

I pause, catching my breath, then add with a grin. “In Russia, we even have a saying: ‘vodka — eto zhizn',’ which means ‘vodka is life!’ It’s a bit of an exaggeration, of course, but it shows how central it is to our culture. Every region, every family has its own way of making and enjoying it.”

I take a sip of a third shot I poured for us, savoring the taste, and give her a look.

“So, tell me, what do you think? This one is infused with peaches. Do you find it as fascinating as I do? Or am I just ‘govorit' kak p'yanyy’—talking like a drunk, ha!”

She looks at me with wide eyes, impressed by my knowledge. “Wow, you really do know your stuff. And I take it you are not from New York…”

“Eh, no…not exactly. I’ve been here for over a decade now, so it’s home, but I’m originally from Sochi, Russia. Although, I try not to advertise that I'm from the Motherland too often,” I tell her, letting my accent deepen slightly.

“Oh, wow. And I thought your accent was Cajun,” Laura says with a wink.

“Huh, Cajun?” I ask, confused.

“I’m teasing you, Val. And it’s cool that you're Russian. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone from Russia before. But you do know a lot about vodka.”

”It pays the bills,” I reply, calming down a bit as I push the peach-flavored shot in front of her. “So, tell me, what does it take for a fellow co-worker and now apparently classmate to learn your name and where you are from? Tell me, kracivey devashka, I want to know allabout you.”

She smiles at me, and just as she’s starting to relax and pick up the vodka shot, Tony storms over. His face is set in a scowl as he looks her up and down.

“You can’t perform like that. Go change into something dressy and get ready for a busy night. We are packed with reservations. You’re the new girl, you need to work harder. And you better not be taking shots right before your shift.”

Her smile fades, and she nods, standing up from the bar stool, pushing the glass away from her. “Yes, Tony. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

Whispering over her shoulder, she glances back my way and says, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out my name later. Thanks for the notes about vodka.”

I watch her walk away, taking in the view of her perfect ass in those still-damp black tights.

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