Sol... or a soul?

Last night was one of those hectic evenings where you're trying to attend a million different things without leaving so early that you hurt people's feeling.

First stop was the Centennial College Alumni event for the communications grads. Free food with 20-minute long lineups, live jazz band... one ticket for a small glass of wine.

Then stopped into Ubisoft's King Kong video game launch at the Panaroma Lounge at Bay and Bloor. Up to the 51st floor. Far more people I knew (many of them well into the suds by then), fantastic -- but windy and icy-looking -- view, better music. Open bar and a chocolate fountain with fresh fruit for dipping... or is that soaking? Plunging? Anyway, it was fucking tasty.

Left quickly as was meeting my "date" (a friend who nicely stepped in at the last minute when someone else failed to meet me earlier) at the NOW Xmas party. Zillions of people (they wouldn't check our coats because they were full) and three drink tickets each (more than adequate for the hour or so we were sticking around). I'm sure there was food, but god knows how we could have found it. The cool thing was they had set up fortune tellers. We lined up to receive generic responses. I made a rookie mistake and admitted I was a writer (someone later laughed and said, "A writer at a NOW party? That's rididulous..."), and then received most earnest predictions that I would write a novel in eight years and it would be published.

Somewhat unsatisfied but greatly amused, my chum and I wandered off to the bar to get our next round. I went to the bar and ordered a glass of of white wine (for my friend) and a Sol for myself (hey, I just like the lime-with-beer combo).

The bartender looked at me and said, "You want a Soul?"
Suddenly I felt an odd chill sweep through my insides, and the noise of the party dimmed for the merest second.

Then thing were right again, and she went and got my Sol.

But I felt unnerved for the rest of the evening.