Julian paid, thanked the man profusely, and practically ran back to his car. The bottle sat securely in the passenger seat, buckled in with the seatbelt.
Julian stepped out of his car and pulled his jacket tight against the brisk autumn wind. He had already checked three chain liquor stores. All of them gave him the same pitying look and a recommendation for a generic cherry vodka.
"Found it hiding in the back corner of the stockroom," the man said, setting it on the counter with a satisfying thunk . "Must have been sitting there for years. Last one in the store. Heck, maybe the last one in the city." where to buy bacardi torched cherry rum
"Not the same," Julian muttered, pushing open the heavy glass door of the Emporium.
The neon sign above Miller’s Liquor Emporium buzzed with a low, rhythmic hum that matched the nervous tapping of Julian’s fingers on the steering wheel. It was 11:45 PM on a Tuesday, and he was on a desperate, late-night quest for a ghost. Specifically, a liquid ghost. Bacardi Torched Cherry Rum. Julian paid, thanked the man profusely, and practically
The label featured the iconic Bacardi bat, framed by deep red cherries and a hint of flame.
"I know it's a long shot," Julian began, leaning against the counter. "I'm looking for Bacardi Torched Cherry Rum. I need it for my grandfather's birthday." He had already checked three chain liquor stores
The clerk shrugged. "Retail price. I don't believe in gouging people for nostalgia."