My formative Shanghai years were spent with many a bottle of Johnny Walker Black and buckets of green tea (see Guandii and Pegasus and many a farewell to my liver). Though those days are long past, I never quite let go of Johnny. I would see him at the duty free stores, on the uniforms of the sexy Johnny girls pushing product at KTVs, on TV in various in masculine commercial incarnations. However, I had never seen him donning blue…sitting on a table…right in front of me…waiting to be plundered.

Until tonight.

After a marathon Shiraz session at Just Grapes and Debbie’s house on a Monday evening, I was hard pressed to accept her invitation to return to the lair. “I’m afraid I’m going to end up drinking until 4:30 AM at your place again,” I told her. “My mom made hot soup. You’re close by, just come on over, fill your stomach, and head home to rest,” she replied.

Little did I know that the ever elusive Johnny Blue would be there waiting for me, starved for the attention of a set of virgin lips and ebullient liver. And indeed, I made that lonely bottle feel complete.

“Hello, Johnny. My, how mature and smooth and delicious you’ve become!”

“Hello Sushipanda. I want you to make love to me”

And so I did.