This poem really requires explanation before reading. By best friend, Aisha, and I frequent a bar in Blacksburg called The Cellar. Its gotten to the point where we don't get carded by many if any of the bartenders or bouncers. Through a separate chain of events she and I became friends with someone who turned out to be a bartender at The Cellar. We decided to leave an inspirational quote in his stocking above the bar at Christmas. When we couldn't think of a quote we decided on a poem. This morphed into us writing a poem.
In the time we've had Chase as a bartender Aisha has ordered two drinks from him, a peach martini and an apple martini. They were both disgustingly strong and difficult to drink. I have always drunk Tom Collins, which Chase has never managed to screw up, and have a habit of, when lubed with alcohol, bobble my own breasts and start spouting of overly intellectual bullshit. Thus this poem was born.
This is an acrostic poem (aka his name being the first letters of each line) that was penned and left on a bar napkin while one drink away from practically falling over drunk. That very same night, only one drink later, I told a guy I was planning on hitting on him all night but was too drunk now so he should take it as an ego boost. Then stumbled home.

Attached at the Vag aka My Life Tastes Like Gin

Crappy martinis
Helping us consume
Alcohol to excess
Served with much
Exuberant glee

Clinging to glasses
Of gin and sours causing
Breast fondling and
Liquor induced
Existentialism.

Poetry.
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