About a year ago, a trendy martini bar opened in my town. I’ve been there a few times; it’s not a regular hangout, but I’ve been there enough to know it’s a place I like to go occasionally. When the mood is right.

Last Friday, the mood was right. Very right.

I met four gals from church (warning: we Catholics know how to party even without wine!) and between the five of us we tried sixteen different martinis (plus a glass of wine). Oh, and an extra shot of Bailey’s. We ordered tapas and proceeded to down all of the above in less than three hours.

You see, we were on a mission. One of us will be attending a girls’ weekend in a couple weeks, in which there will be a martini contest.

No, not a drinking contest. A martini-making contest.

So of course, we had to figure out which was the best martini, the most unique and tasty, for her to make.

Which is why we tried sixteen of them. The results:

The Bloodytini (a Bloody-Maryish martini), and we decided that a rim of lemon pepper would add just the right touch

The Sugar Baby (tasted just like Sugar Baby candies…and was all alcohol). We decided that putting a Sugar Baby candy in the bottom of each glass would also be the right touch.

and Nick’s Naughty. That was really good, and I can’t really tell you what’s in it except Blue Curacao with a grenadine bottom–and lots of alcohol. Yum.

There were a few martinis that we didn’t love (although we forced them down), and they became “table drinks.” (Poor souls.)

So when one of the husbands stopped by to say hi on his way home from work (he didn’t dare stay), he was offered a one of the “table drinks”–a martini sitting in the middle of the table that hadn’t been touched recently. In other words, one that was safe to share.

The other interesting thing about this martini bar is the bathroom faucet. This is a very trendy place, decorated to the T, in great taste, very classy and polished. And that includes the bathroom.

It’s a standing joke that whenever someone gets up to hit the restroom that someone at the table asks, “Have you been here before? Do you know how to turn on the faucet?”

No joke. The first time anyone ever comes to the martini bar, if they aren’t warned, they generally cannot figure out how to turn on the faucet. Even if they haven’t partaken of any of the bar’s offerings.

So as I left the table to make my way (very steadily, I might add) to the restroom, I ran into a gal named Angela who happens to be a fan of my books. (Some people call her my Stalker, but that’s not the case at all.) I stopped and talked to her and her friends, then explained I was on my way and that I’d be back. They started laughing and said, “Good luck!”

Of course, I knew why they were laughing, and so on my way back, they stopped me for a hand check–to see if I’d been able to work the faucet. Which of course I had, and we had a good laugh about that first time of going in there.

So what’s the deal with the faucet, you ask? Well, the knobs don’t flip up or down. Or turn. They slide. Forward. But they look like they should flip. You might think it sounds odd, but it’s a standing joke for everyone: no one can figure it out. At first you try and lift them, or push them down. They don’t move. Then you try to turn, and even wave your hands under the faucet, waiting for the water to come on.

No dice. It’s happened more than once that I’ll find someone standing at the sink, waving their hands beneath the faucet, waiting for a gush of water that isn’t coming. Or just staring at it, trying to figure it out.

But don’t worry–if you ever come to my town and join me at the martini bar, I’ll give you a hint before you go to the restroom.

Oh, and you want to know about the hot priests, right? (That’s the real reason you’re still reading. I know.)

Well, as we were sitting at the table, we Catholic ladies, all of us married but one, it came up that there is a Hot Priests Calendar that they sell at kiosks in Rome. Apparently, they’re all model-gorgeous, are real priests, and are wearing their collars. (I can’t imagine what it would be like confessing my sins to one them…we decided we’d have to go behind the screen if faced with that sort of confessor.)

Of course we all want one of the calendars, but we haven’t been able to find them on the Internet.

So I thought I’d post about it today and see if there’s anyone out there (Mazoku???? But you’re in Venice, right?) who might have access to those Hot Priest Calendars and who might be willing to take an order and ship them over to us.

So. That was my Friday evening. Surprisingly, I felt pretty good Saturday morning–I did sleep in, but the only residuals were dehydration and the need for something greasy to eat.

What’s your favorite martini? Do you drink them? The best Cosmo I ever had was in NYC with the woman who became my agent shortly thereafter. But my favorite martini, in general, is a French martini. Love them.