The Cosmopolitan

The Cosmopolitan

John Burns, our man at the bar, reveals the not-so-guilty pleasures of drinking alone A man walks into a bar. He’s alone; it’s the same old story. Maybe he’s looking for company, or to get out of that hotel and watch the game, or just to unwind. So he orders a drink...
The Cosmopolitan

The Cosmopolitan

Our man at the bar, John Burns, on the seductive power of nomenclature Names are my downfall. I’m just a sucker for them. For fanciful origin stories and tales of whimsy. The music of language spellbinds me, which is why I fall so often and so hard for the poetry of...