Annie was in my course at university and we had a few classes together. My first impression of her was “Yikes, she’s so super-enthusiastic!” I remember when we were first introduced, she couldn’t help but extend her hand in friendship and suggested we get lunch on campus.
Among the many friends I made in Toronto (most lasting until now more than 10 years later), she was the person I thought of as my “step-out-of-my-comfort-zone-with” friend.
Annie said she’d heard of a cool martini bar in downtown Toronto and asked me if I wanted to check it out. At the time, I’d never had a martini ever, so the idea of having a martini at an actual martini bar, in a foreign country, sounded appealing. “Yes, let’s go!” I said to her.
The bar was dark (as bars often are) with artfully placed candles in various locations, designed to make one look mysterious when bathed in the yellow glow. Most of the tables were occupied but we managed to find one located next to the bar. The first martini I tried was a lychee martini, which the waitress pronounced as “lee-chee” and when I was done with that, I had the chocolate martini, which frankly was too much chocolate, not enough martini.
I also remember in between my martinis, Annie decided that she saw someone cute and worth speaking to at the bar, and she immediately headed over and chatted him up. They exchanged numbers, of course, that was Annie.
Now, whenever I order a martini, I remember that blustery night in Toronto when Annie
dragged convinced me to enjoy a few glasses of martinis with her.