The scene: It's about 4 p.m. on a weekday. We trip over a worker cleaning up as we take the stairs down to the carpeted den that is Recessions. I realize I've never been here sober before. Throughout the two hours or so that we're there, Recessions usually has one or two patrons in addition to my coworker and me. During that time period, we'll have three different bartenders, who are slow to come over to us when we need a refill, but are friendly and seem happy for our business. They even try to convince us to stay longer once we're ready to leave.
The interaction: My friend orders a beer; I ask for a Manhattan. I get a nod and no real reaction of surprise, as well as no follow up questions about what sort of bourbon I might like.
The drink: The bartender pours a generous portion of Maker's Mark bourbon into a shaker, as well as some vermouth (he doesn't measure). He eyeballs it and adds a little more bourbon, then shakes it and serves it up. I'm guessing they don't stock bitters. The drink is perfectly passable, but I'm more than happy to switch to beer after I'm finished.