How about something that rhymes with "Jagermeister"?

One of Selives's high school chums is in town this weekend so he, Mattress and I took him out to dinner last night. Initially we were unable to find a cab, but a Pakistani town car driver pulled over and picked us up. During our short ride to the restaurant, we discussed politics, race relations and the blight of crack cocaine with our driver.

At the restaurant, which was essentially the lobby of a hotel, we were one of a handful of tables. I think it was probably a good thing that we essentially had the run of the restaurant because we were a rather loud, drunk and obnoxious table. Overall it was a fun dinner because we had the opportunity to scream and laugh and get a bit tipsy. The fritto misto came with fried slices of meyer lemons, which made Selives wince and Mattress squeezed into one of his two cocktails. And when Selives's filet mignon arrived, Mattress exclaimed, "I want to try your potatoes!" and stabbed the filet with his fork!

Our waiter, named Talon, helped us out by doing shots with us. Selives insisted that we have shots that didn't have dark liquor, that weren't too strong or too fruity. Mattress, meanwhile, added, "How about something that rhymes with 'Jagermeister'?" Talon, the good sport that he was, returned with a round of Alabama Slammers.