If the bar that you run is in a retrofitted double-wide trailer, reeks of old domestic beer, stale cigarette and meth farts, you probably don’t need to know how to fat wash a botanical gin.
I feel like there’s no more choices in life, between two great options. I’m not talking about the mundane like choosing between Steak or Chicken I’m talking about existential dilemmas and the choices are essentially “would you rather be constipated or have diarrhea?” Idk anymore