Slow posting this week as my father is in town for my daughter’s birthday (5 going on 16). We stopped into the state liquor emporium and he bestowed upon me a bottle of Lagavulin, my favorite of the single malts.
I’m enjoying some now: an incomparable sensation.
While we were perusing the fine selection at the state liquor emporium, we discovered that there are some people willing and able to pay $300 for a bottle of Scotch. I assume that its presence in the hype-free state store means that people were willing and able: if you have never experienced buying spirits while gently cradled in the bosom of the state of Washington, I don’t know how to explain the experience. All the charm of a hardware store with the arid sterility of a pharmacy: not point of sale displays, no music, not festive allusions, just shelves of bottled glee, awaiting your selection.
But then I had to keep in mind that the same shopping nexus also boasts a Coach shop, so there are plainly more upscale consumers than I realized.
Now playing:Zooropa by U2 from the album “Zooropa” | Buy it