August 25th - Apres Diem

Apres Diem has become a pretty regular watering hole for me since relocating to Atlanta. I can always count on it to be open late any day of the week. The ambiance is really cool and chill. The drinks are mixed well. The lighting is dark. The music is fitting. On this particular night, I really, really needed a good drink. It's not that I delight in the so-called lush life. Rather, there are those occasions in one's adult life where a buzz brought on by alcohol is both required and appreciated.

On Wednesday, my boyfriend and I will be travelling by car to Miami, Florida to attend his youngest brother's graduation ceremony from Nova University. It will be a ten hour car ride. We will rent a little bungalow with a kitchen just three miles from Fort Lauderdale Beach. I will formally meet my boyfriend's father and I will be hanging out with his entire immediate family. I'm great with families and under any other circumstances I would be totally chill about the whole venture. However, my boyfriend's father is a proud Igbo man who wants nothing more than for his eldest son to marry a proper Nigerian and preferably Igbo woman. I was born in Vallejo, California. Therefore, I was a little on edge as I carefully packed my suitcase and gathered the rest of the things that would be needed for our little vacation. Just as I was ironing the last couple of shirts to place in my suitcase, Berenstein the cat decided to express his displeasure at the idea of me leaving by peeing directly into that same suitcase.

After chasing Berenstein about the house and threatening his life with promises of a drowning in Sweetwater Lake, I put all of my clothes back in the washing machine and started to wash the pungent smell of feline urine out of my suitcase. I was pretty much on the verge of tears when I accidentally tore a hole in my favorite sun dress. At that point I began to cry primarily to keep from screaming repeatedly at the top of my lungs. At that point, Sweetheart decided that I needed a drink. I agreed.

Driving to Apres Diem, the Atlanta night feels like a warm hug. He holds my hand and gives a good squeeze. We arrive and I drink a pineapple amaretto followed by something called a KGB. I'm told it's made with Kahlua, Bailey's, and grand marnier. I'm definitely going to keep that particular concoction in my regular libation rotation. Oh God, I can't wait to get that sand on my toes and the Atlantic washing over me.