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Starting local in her quest for the quintessential morning cocktail, Spartos drops by the Great Jones CafA(c), dependable for good Cajun grub, an almost famous jukebox, and a chummy atmosphere. She orders up her poison from the longhaired bartender who talks Kinks with her neighbor, a middle-aged blue-collar type who has a knack for pounding brew. A sloppy drinker herself, Spartos spills some of her first sips of crimson vodka, but Drunk Neighborawho by now has put away three pintsaassures her, "Your nerves will get steady by the time you hit the bottom." Which is precisely the point, but this drink tastes like cocktail sauce, with floating bits of horseradish that stick to the gums.