Welcome to an impromptu cocktail party chez moi. Martini glasses are chilled. Two stainless steel shakers on the go. Plenty of ice. A little Bill Evans in the background. But there’s a serious problem. This cocktail party has more cock than tail. Where are all the girls? I instantly go into panic mode.

Five cocks (count em) for every tail!
I decide the only way to keep the cock around until more tail arrives is to keep the booze flowing. And cocktails take work! Shaking, stirring, pouring… And why didn’t I buy more glasses? One British cock, a dashing and smart screenwriter named Gerard, has brought a bottle of Frangelico and everyone decides to try a brew of his special Chocolate Chip but both my shakers are already in use for the Cosmopolitans. It’s cocktail chaos. In the middle of it all: the French Cock arrives. I’d almost forgotten about him!
FLASHBACK: I met the French Cock at a party two weeks earlier. We sparked on the dancefloor, laughing and twirling until the wee hours. No numbers were exchanged, but he Facebooked me two days later. After some cat and mouse messaging, I suggested we meet up again at party. He asks, “What party? Where?” Coyly I tell him I’ll have my party dog sniffers on the trail and get back to him. Since there wasn’t a party on the horizon, I decide to throw one myself.
At first sight, The French Cock isn’t what I remember. He seems nervous, possibly dorky, and wow, his English is certainly patchy. But I’m too busy to make chit chat anyway: I have a party to save! So I pawn him off him on Rina, a beautiful piece of tail in a killer dress entertaining a gaggle of cock over in a corner by the appetizer table. Normally I might be jealous, but instead I’m just grateful for her multi-cocking skills. While she amuses and captivates, I keep the cocktail shakers shaking, ignoring my French cock for a full two hours.

Cock kisses cock (due to tail shortage.)
By the end of the night, the party is drowning in cock, but it’s okay, since the cock is now totally drowning in alcohol. That’s when the male bonding kicks in. Cock no longer needs tail: they’re totally in love with each other. To my amazement, the French Cock has been sticking around. He’s mingling, making people laugh with his sweet French accent. The initial dorkiness is gone. Now all I notice is his perfectly straight Roman nose and curly blonde locks. I watch proudly as one of my cock friends drapes an arm around his shoulder, telling him how resembles a young Marlon Brando. I don’t disagree.
Suddenly, I feel the FC’s hand slip into mine — thanking me for inviting him to such a great party. (Great? I barely talked to him!) His hand stays in mine. My heart skips a beat. Ooh la la!
As rowdy drunken cocks head towards the door, ready for some post party poker chez Gerard, we stand there smiling at each other. No nervous babble. No awkwardness As the last guest leaves and we wave to them absently, eyes locked on each other. Maybe it was chemistry. Maybe it was the cocktails. Whatever the case, this cock & tail party went late.

Cock chills with Tail at the end of the night.

Vodka: 2 ounces
Grand Marnier (Cointreau if you’re on a budget): 1 ounce
Cranberry Cocktail; 1.5 ounces
Lime juice: 1 ounce
Shake in stainless steel shaker with ice and strain into chilled martini glasses. Serves two to three. Garnish with sliced lime or orange if desired.
The Chocolate Chip
Introduced to me my friend Gerard, this is a perfect cocktail party offering, because the base is vodka (just like the Classic Martini, and the Cosmo.) Frangelico is yummy and nice and the bottle will last a while. (I use it French crepes “Cesar”.
2 part vodka
1 part Frangelico
Shake over ice, strain into chilled glassed.