<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/4474/fy1ijwqfvup45ew6g.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><div align="center"><strong>Peter Warcaof</strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><div align="center"><strong>CGDA Benefactor</strong></div></div></div><br/><em>Egad!</em>Perhaps this was a mistake.  Perhaps I should have expected the brusque, quick approach.  Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.<br/><br/>Standing at our table, the server raises an eyebrow in the expectant way of ‘drink sir’?  I nod absentmindedly,<strong>“I’ll tell you what. I’d like a Scuffler, no that’s not right, a Scofflaw—Bourbon, dry vermouth, lemon juice, grenadine, orange bitters”</strong>I smile,<strong>“Heard about it when in Paris.  Invented there during the Prohibition.  Miss Dubois suggested . . . ”</strong>I look at the server again<strong>“with Bulleit Frontier Whiskey Bourbon”</strong>Order completed, I continue,<strong>“the bourbon selection was her suggestion, never Jameson’s although that’s Irish whisky.”</strong>(Wink).<br/><br/><strong>“Are you happy with your drink?  A freshener perhaps?”</strong><br/><br/>That’s provided me some time to think.  I place my hands firmly on the table.<strong>“So good that!  Warcaof not a problem.  Then.  Yes, good.”</strong><em>Jehoshaphat!</em><strong>“I don’t like hearing that I may have been a cause of unhappiness.  I assure you my intentions are always honorable.”</strong><br/><br/>I look at my hands, not sure where to look.  I then look at Jaclyn, directly.<strong>“I’m not one to judge, really.  What you choose to wear, who to please, all that’s yours to be.”</strong><br/>