“…bstmosa,” she was saying.
“Don’t order that,” he pleaded. “Not here.”
“I want one. I want a Pabstmosa.”
Wholly unable to continue my own conversation with the distiller to my left, I turn to face them. “Excuse me. Did you just order a Pasbstmosa?”
She had. No explanation was necessary. I got it immediately. Her meaning was apparent, but Deb Torres elaborates anyway. “Yeah, it’s Pabst and OJ, just like a mimosa. It’s great.” Deb's visiting from Arizona and explains that she learned the drink from her friend, Dawni Rotten. The man to my left orders one. What the hell, I order one as well. Pabstmosas for everyone.
Deb assures me that Pabstmosas are good any time of day. I’m glad to have ordered one. I’m glad for the subsequent conversations it sparked in which I learned about Arkansas martinis and Monkeywrench martinis (beers with an olive or a maraschino cherry, respectively). I was even glad to see the same bartender serving more later that night. But mostly? Mostly, I’m glad that’s the last Pabstmosa I’ll ever order.
12 oz Pabst Blue Ribbon beer
4 oz orange juice
Pour the beer into a large glass, and top with OJ. Normally, I call for freshly squeezed fruit juices in drinks, but in this case, I can’t see that it would matter.