At a very fancy dinner, everyone ordered cocktails. I enjoy simple drinks, like a Jameson, neat. I ordered a sidecar, because it sounded like something Frank Sinatra or James Bond would order.
I received a tall sugar-rimmed cocktail glass with a bright orange drink and a pear slice balance delicately on the rim.
I began a deep and contentious internal crisis for the rest of the evening, as to how I felt about this dainty pear drink, why I felt how I did, and how I could be fooled by such a sly waiter and so treacherous a cocktail menu. This crucible left me angry, confused, and buzzed. I look back on this experience with reverence towards the Pear Sidecar, and wisdom for similar adversaries which are sure to present themselves in my future.