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Still looking for that bar. Where you can sit a while on the end stool in a rumpled Denholm Elliot linen suit and feel you don't have to talk to anyone, but can if you want. Where it's busy but not too loud. Where the specials don't have too many obscure ingredients, are not too sweet and don't taste, "Ugh". Where the Martinis are just right and nobody knows your name, except as that guy who's here once a week.

11/10 for that Borges reference. Is there a companion short story "The Bar of Babel", where the menu contains every possible cocktail combination of every possible ingredient?

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Auguri!! and cin cin

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