Misty water colored memories, of the way we interned . . . .
Back when I was an intern, we had to put together our own happy hour guide. Or more precisely, we had to get our copy of the worn, well-thumbed copy of the guide handed down from class to class. If there's one thing my alma mater prides itself on - besides its excellent academic reputation - it's our ability to mix, or at least find, a decent cocktail.
And, of course, I could've used this age-appropriate guide in those days. It doesn't list our beloved Tequilla Grill, RH, but any underage dancer would be remiss if they missed the subterranean thrill of incomprehensible latin dance music.
Anyway - sorry for the bit of nostalgia - but some things are meant to be thought about again, at least occassionally.