a little brown bottle wrapped in paper

Went into the corner store. “Do you have olives?” “What?” “Olives.” “Oil?” “No, um, olives.” “What is that?” “It’s a kind of… tiny vegetable. I’m looking for the kind that come pickled in a jar.” “What would you do with it?” “Well, you might put it in a drink.” “Is it a medicine?”

Actually, yes. Went into the bottle shop. “Do you have vermouth?” “Vermouth?” He looks it up on his computer. “We do! It’s over here.” Pulls out the one brand of vermouth they sell. Ratchets the other bottles up to the front of the shelf. Behind me I hear another woman come in and ask. “Do you have vermouth?” I show her my bottle. “Are you making martinis?” “Yes!” she says, “we looked them up on the internet.” “Oh, excellent. Cheers!” “What are you putting in yours?” she wants to know. “Apparently you can put bitters in.” “What is bitters?” my companion wonders. The two of us combine to try ineffectually to explain. “It’s made in Trinidad and Tobago,” she says. “It comes in a little dark bottle wrapped in paper,” I say. We won’t be putting any in our martinis so I guess he’ll just have to keep wondering, for now.