NATAL, Brazil -- We were sitting at the swim-up bar, drinking caipirinhas* when our bartender starting sniffing. He was trying to tell us he smelled something. Seeing as none of us speak Portuguese, we had no idea what he was saying, but we did understand one word. “Cannabis.”
My bartender smoked weed at the World Cup
*Brazil’s national cocktail; primarily cachaça with sugar cane and a dash of lime. That it isn’t more popular in the United States is a tragedy.
Moments later, the bartender was gone. He had taken off to chase down the weed. We could have hopped behind the bar and served ourselves for the next hour, because he didn’t return anytime soon. By the time he did come back, almost 90 minutes had passed.
But there he was, sauntering up the beach with bloodshot eyes. He hopped back behind the bar and got back to serving us caipirinhas.
They were better -- and stronger -- after.
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