since losing Sage last year, I've been adrift in a sea of unsatisfying watering holes.
but in the past month, I've reintroduced myself to places dark, posh and reveling in their own decadent delights. It's mostly in search of those who supply Hendrick's Gin, and I find that if the gin is there, it's a good indicator that I'll be happy to settle in and stay until the fire dies down or the pianist tires out.
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