I pulled the cheap, plastic cup to my lips and sipped slowly.
That tourist trap of a street vendor saw me coming.
"We're on Bourbon Street. It's practically a mandate." She was right though. I hadn’t realized that mint juleps are mostly Bourbon, a thick alcohol that’s an acquired taste, and precious few people ever grow accustomed. I tossed the half empty cup towards an open trash can and missed. We both sat, watching the sprig of mint leaves slide a few feet before halting - abandoned by the brown bourbon and ice, which soaked into the concrete.
"The ground here must be like, 90 percent alcohol." Kay said, staring at the empty cup until I picked it up and trashed it.
"Of course it is! That's why the water table is so high. It's all grey goose."