About three years ago, I received a text from a friend visiting from Los Angeles. He wanted to meet at Canon, the restaurant and bar on 12th Avenue. Canon, with its rare whiskeys, had already developed a reputation for being exorbitant. I agreed, but not without reluctance. At the time, I was low on cash and in no mood to blow my credit on froufrou cocktails.
I tried to order the cheapest drinks on the menu, but, at the end of the evening, still managed to add about $120 to my debt. More amazing still, my friend bought a lot of my drinks, which were incredibly expensive shots of spirits that we had to try before we died. Lord only knows what his bill came to. This was simply a place I could not afford. It was out of my range. It made nonsense of my finances.
A few weeks ago, I returned to Canon because I heard a rumor that things had changed. The place, it was said, now served colorful cocktails that, though popular, were even more expensive. Was it yet another example of our city leaving the orbit of ordinary economic reality?
