倫敦酒館裡的雪茄與酒氣，架著一部老式的點唱機。

人聲鼎沸，播著叮嚀叮嚀的歌。人群搓著手套下暖了的手，圍在桃木吧檯邊聊著有的沒的家常。

​

威士忌酒的季節，搖著冰杯暖和。有人在說起某個二十年前的珍妮佛、在這裡同一間酒館的約會，有人在角落的卡位自己，晃著一杯乾琴酒像一幅竇加的畫。

但這些都被淹沒在了人聲的快樂與喜氣當中，還重要嗎？
好酒當前，今天是聖誕前夕。我們舉杯飲醉。

​

​

Cigar and liquor, old fashioned tavern with a 
jingling jukebox.

​

Loud crowd gathering around the wooden bar for the 
chitter and chats, who’s here tonight, you’ve got a 
pence? It’s whisky season, pick a boogie.

​

Somebody talks about a Jennifer he brought here 20 
years ago, somebody drinks dry gin alone half-wasted like a Degas painting at the corner. But 
all that drowns in the joyful noise and does not 
matter no more.

 

It’s Christmas Eve. Let’s toast to that.