THE NEWSLETTER THAT COATS YOUR BRAIN WITH PEACE - 16/09/22
Patricia reveals the secrets of her biological success.
Today, of course, we're celebrating the weekend, because by the time you read this, you'll only be a few hours away from liberation. The moment when you'll be able to sink triumphantly into a club chair at your favourite bar for a well-deserved cocktail.
I'll always remember drinking my first real cocktail, about ten years ago, somewhere in the Marais. The bar was located behind a garage. Access was through the hood of a white 504 break. Instead of an engine, there was a ladder leading down to a filthy basement full of the smell of piss. I immediately felt like leaving. Or vomit. Or both, I think.
But it was all just an act to repel the less courageous. Once you pushed open the real front door, it was a completely different scene. Can you imagine the bar of From Dusk Till Dawn? Well, it was the same. And if you don't know what I'm talking about, too bad, but it'll save me the trouble of describing how it was ruined. Just know that it smelt of lemons and coriander and was lit by candlelight. After the horror, the wonder. There I discovered a cocktail menu as thick as a phone book. Never in my life had I tasted such gustatory delights.
Each ingredient was furiously recognisable. It was the best evening of my life, even if I had a hard time getting back to the surface in the early hours of the morning after drinking a dozen cocktails, each more delicious than the last. After that, and for a fortnight afterwards, I drank litres of water and took anxiolytics at every turn to recover. So I say to you without fail, my dear sisters, it's better to go hiking on the weekends, even if it means getting lost at the bottom of a cave, than to carry around a 48-hour migraine caused by cocktails, however good they may be! You're welcome :-)
And here's something to set your pretty feet on fire: