Criminal Matt and the Bitter Bidders

It’s 5:09am and here I am again at the airport, wrapping up another work week in Florida on a complex project with a tight turnaround and lots of moving parts. Long days, not nearly enough sleep, barely any time to answer personal emails. A folder marked with the topic and my name seemed especially to fit my mood: How can an entire week go by without committing some kind of crime?

But there have been a few great moments: eating some fantastic meals in Kansas City on the way here in a Calvin-Trillin-let’s-pick-up-something-to-eat-on-the-way-to-lunch type of approach; a mouse barreling into a meeting leading grown women to shriek and, quite literally, jump onto chairs, and a whole “free” afternoon one day (tip: do not “peek” at your email before an anticipated nap unless prepared to deep-six plans for said nap).

An then a linguistics lesson—I’ve been reminded that Americans are not as precise in some pronunciations as we’d like to think. Years ago, a friend from France pointed out that Americans often pronounce T’s as D’s. Take, for instance, the word “little.” Many Americans seem to pronounce it as “liddle” but we almost all understand the meaning.

Now take “bitters.” As are more and more people these days, I’m a fiend for cocktail bitters—even dosing my morning orange juice with Angostura and making many of my own batches. In the midst of a procurement analysis, talk of “bidders” is fast and loose. It’s testament to my drinking geekery that talk about “the most qualified bidders” still gets my instant attention followed immediately with the slightest of fallen crest.

With all the smoke breaks folks take, I’m thinking a cocktail break is much better suited to conducting bidness in Florida. With a splash of bidders—the most qualified, if you please.

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