I pull into the parking garage of Ole Smoky Distillery much earlier than anyone should be arriving at a distillery, as I do nearly every day. In Gatlinburg, Tennessee, people come from all across the country to slip into one of our many moonshine distilleries and have a taste of the Smoky Mountains before noon has come around. For $5, you can taste ten different flavors of moonshine; all those shots done in quick succession are enough to make you feel real good before moving on to your other tourist traps. 

Part of being a bartender at a moonshine distillery in a tourist town is maintaining a high-energy persona throughout your whole shift. Our manager tells us to be a little spunky, a little sassy, and a lot of fun. We have quips and jokes we’re required to make during the taste testing, and after a while, they get old. It’s hard to remember that even though this is the thousandth time you’ve said it, your customers are only hearing it for the first time. 

“Hey, Alexa,” Danny says as I walk in the door. He’s a fun coworker and a good bartender, but a horrible date. We went out once and that was more than enough. 

“Hey, Danny.”

“Want a nip before the crowds rush in?” He holds up a jar of our butter pecan moonshine, raising his eyebrows. 

I shake my head. “No, thanks.” 

Several of our bartenders take sips here and there throughout the day, but I don’t like to start my day at 9:30 am with a shot of moonshine. It tastes great, but it’s too much for me this early. I bring a coffee every day anyway, so it’s not like I need an extra pick-me-up. All of this is aside from the fact that drinking moonshine during your shift is against the rules. 

“Ready for another fun day?” Caitlyn asks, coming in behind me and following me to the staff room.

I roll my eyes. “Of course. Who doesn’t love dealing with tourists day in and day out?”

“Some of them are cute.”

“And they lead exactly nowhere since they’re likely from another state.”

Caitlyn shrugs. “I’ve had fun with a tourist or two.”

We finish putting our bags away in our lockers and head out to the main floor. After some quick clean-up and set-up, Danny unlocks the doors to let the customers in. 

No one’s beating down the door right when we open, but people start filing in not long after. We all put on our game faces to entertain the customers and entice them to buy as many jars as possible. We always have specials, like buy 3 and get a free cooler bag, or buy 6 and get the cooler bag plus an extra jar. Tourists go for it all the time because they want to stock up before going home where they can’t get more. 

A couple of hours into the day and I’m already feeling the weariness of performing. I stand in the center of a giant circle bar made to look like a wooden barrel. It has a wooden surface on top for the bar where the customers all have a guide to our flavors in front of them. It stands around 10-15 customers depending on how tightly they squeeze in. All my mason jars of moonshine are lined up on a shelf just underneath the bar top, and I grab one and pour in a circle every time. 

“Welcome to Moonshine for Dummies!” I say as my new group settles in. I spin around giving them all the low-down of how things go, eyes flitting from one guest to another, when I stop short, catching his gaze.

I’m pulled in by the honey-golden hue of his hazel eyes, shining brightly against the deep, dark chocolate brown of his hair. He has a sharp nose, but it looks perfect set against the rest of his face, framed perfectly by his jaw. 

He grins when he notices he’s made me mess up, so I shake my head and continue. “Remember, no drinking until everyone has their pour! It’s not cool if you’re over here downing shots before Johnny Smith over here has his cup full. We drink together as a family, or we don’t drink at all!”

Everyone has their plastic shot cups in front of them. They’re much smaller than a normal shot, giving the customers only a small taste so they know if they like the flavor before purchasing. I pick up our first flavor and hold it up to show the crowd. “This jar is our highest proof moonshine. We start you high so everything else feels nice and smooth. Take it quick like a tequila shot and let it warm you up against that cool autumn breeze out there!” 

I make my circle pouring everyone’s shot, then raise my mason jar to the group. “Cheers!” 

I glance over at the man again and he winks at me as he takes his shot. I don’t need to look in a mirror to know I’m blushing as I put the moonshine back on the shelf. Redheads blush whether we’re embarrassed or not, so I’m sure my freckled cheeks are plenty pink right now. 

Before he can distract me again, I pick up the next flavor, blueberry pancakes, and go through my spiel. “This one’s going to be a little fruity, a little sweet. You’re going to taste the blueberry first, but the maple is what’s going to linger on your tongue.”

As I pour the cups, I notice a couple so wrapped up in each other that they don’t notice I’m not finished pouring. They start picking up their shots, but I turn around and wag my finger at them. “Hey now! We drink as a family, or what?”

“We don’t drink at all!” The group calls back. 

The couple looks mildly sorry, but they’re quickly back to touching each others’ arms and staring into each others’ eyes. I continue around the circle, pouring everyone’s shots when the man’s voice stops me again. 

“Can you believe some people?” he asks me, winking. “The nerve.” And then the man takes his damn shot with one person left to pour for. 

Usually, I’d bust him loudly for the rest of the group to hear and pretend to kick him out, but I’m too flustered to let it slide. I bite my bottom lip as I pour the last shot, raising my jar. “Salud!”

Pumpkin pie is up next, a seasonal flavor that I loathe with all my being. I hate that you can’t walk two steps in the world without a pumpkin spice something being shoved in your face from September to November. I talk them through the flavor notes before I start pouring shots. 

When I get to his cup, I slow down as I pour. “Behave,” I warn him, filling his cup.

He holds his hands up in mock innocence. “Me? I always behave.”

“Somehow I have a hard time believing that.”

“I guess you’ll have to let me take you to dinner so you can find out.”

If I wasn’t constantly around drunk people for a living, his boldness would probably put me off. But I spend my entire day around people who visit multiple moonshine distilleries within a few hours and do thirty or forty mini-shots with probably just a small meal in their stomachs. 

“You’re putting the cart before the horse there, buddy. I don’t even know your name.”

“Colin Maynor,” he says, reaching out a hand to me. “Pleased to meet you.”

I roll my eyes and pour the last shot, raising my jar in a cheers for everyone again. 

The next flavor is our cream-based butter pecan that Danny tried offering me when I walked in this morning. It’s delicious in your coffee, but that’s for my days off. I tell my group all about the flavor notes they can expect and start pouring shots again. 

Of course, when I get to Colin, he’s holding his hand over his shot cup. 

“Don’t want this flavor?” I ask him.

“Oh, I want it very much. I just wanted extra time to talk to you.”

I shake my head at him, but I can’t help the smile on my face. “You’re a little over-confident, Colin.”

“Am I? This might be my third moonshine tasting today.”

“Color me surprised.”

“My friends ditched me to go to Ober Gatlinburg.”

“That place is overrated.”

“I could tell. I’m definitely glad I came here instead.”

Everyone is still waiting to drink, so I move his hand and fill his cup. “You’re holding up the group.”

“I’m not the one pouring.”

I resist the urge to shove him and pour the last cup, then ‘cheers’ the group again. 

We go through the next several flavors smoothly since I start ignoring Colin altogether. He keeps putting his hand over his cup, and I keep moving it and pouring him a shot. After a few flavors, I start to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose just so he can touch my hand. 

When we get to the end, I launch into my final speech. “Thank you guys so much for coming out. I hope you all had a great time! If you didn’t, fuck you, there’s the door!” I get the usual laughs from that joke before I continue. “If you enjoyed your tasting, please consider leaving me a tip. I take cash and Venmo, so toss some cash in this jar or send me some love at the Venmo name on the mini chalkboard right here. Have a great day and remember to drink responsibly! There are tons of restaurants within walking distance. Go get some carbs and water, you crazy animals.”

People start pulling out their wallets and dropping cash in my tip jar. After most of the group has filed away, Colin leans across the bar to get my attention. 

“Best moonshine tasting I’ve ever had, Alexa.”

“Because you’re too drunk to remember the others?”

“I’ll have you know that I ate an entire pizza by myself before coming over here. There’s enough carbs to soak in all the moonshine I’ve had today and then some.”

I smirk and pin him with what I’m hoping is an intimidating stare. “I’m not so sure you realize just how quickly moonshine hits you. Stick around town long enough and you’ll see it on everyone’s faces.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“It wouldn’t matter if it was. You’ve got a hotel or a cabin booked for a specific number of nights, so you’re out of here when your time’s up anyway.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sure I could find another place to stay.”

Colin is totally ridiculous. I’ve already decided based on our limited reactions that he’s overly confident, a little obnoxious, and definitely tipsy at the very least. But he’s also funny and incredibly gorgeous, and I know his trip has an expiration date anyway. I remember what Caitlyn said this morning and catch her eye from across the room. She gestures to Colin and gives me a thumbs up, then a wink. 

I turn back to Colin and smile. “Why don’t we start with dinner?”