• The Libido Drop: Vodka, triple sec, simple syrup, lemon juice, Viagra.
  • Momosa: Champagne, orange juice, forensically undetectable dose of an oilseed that is typically harmless but to which your new Mother-in-Law happens to be highly allergic.
  • Ménage-Artois: Stella, lime twist, spritz of the perfume worn by that skank Lisa from his office who keeps texting him.
  • The May-Decemberita: Sherry with a sprinkle of Molly.
  • The Unintended Consequence of Sex on the Beach: Baby formula, spit-up, and a full bottle of cheap Merlot, microwaved at 3 AM and served with a sprig of chicken finger.
  • The Old Fashioned: Bourbon, simple syrup, a lifelong marriage to someone you proposed to after two months of courtship and thus share nothing in common with but whose long-durée tolerance of you will nonetheless become your favorite cudgel in tirades against young people’s refusal to “settle down,” bitters.
  • The Cosmopolitan, or, Boy, He Sure Does Travel a Lot for Work: Sake, Mezcal, Campari, Soju, Scotch, semen of the world.
  • Tedium-tini: Gin, vermouth, dirty dishwater, cat hair, drool that congealed on his shoulder when you fell asleep on him during yet another Netflix “date night,” floater of cold Chow Mein take-out.
  • The Manhattan Mortgage: Blend of Dom Perignon, Cristal, more ice than you can afford, white of one nest egg.
  • Shotgun Wedding: Four shots of Everclear, spat from your new boyfriend’s mouth directly into yours. Served with a pregnancy test swizzle stick.
  • Singapore Fling: Four shots of Everclear, spat from the foxy bartender’s mouth directly into yours. Served with a paternity test swizzle stick.
  • Love Across Party Limes: One part green tea, one part Milwaukee’s Best, juice of forty citrus fruits to drown out the incoherence of this union.
  • The Trial Siparation: One box of lukewarm Franzia, split between two glasses and spilled onto two couches.
  • Long Island Iced Tea.