“It’s a mint julep,” she said. “Want one?” “I don’t see any mint,” I said. “Yeah, we ran out.” “Doesn’t that make it just a julep?” “No,” said a gray-haired man stepping out onto the porch behind her, “because she doesn’t put any simple syrup in it either.” Foxy grinned. “Aw, but mint juleps are so classy. Just straight bourbon over ice makes it sound like I’m a lush.”
