"I didn't say I didn't have it," the man interrupted, a slow smile creeping across his face. "I said it was hard to find."
The old man turned and walked toward the back of the store, disappearing into a maze of towering shelves. Julian waited, listening to the muffled sounds of bottles being shifted. Minutes ticked by. Julian was about to give up and leave when the man reappeared, carrying a bottle coated in a thin layer of dust.
"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." where to buy bacardi torched cherry rum
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 stared at the bottle like it was a pirate's treasure chest. "You have no idea what this means to me. How much?" "I didn't say I didn't have it," the
"Help you find something, kid?" the man asked without looking up.
The air inside smelled of dust, cardboard, and aged oak. Behind the counter sat a man who looked like he had been part of the inventory since the 1970s. He had thick glasses and was reading a dog-eared paperback. Minutes ticked by
"Torched Cherry, you say? Discontinued. Hard to find. People loved that burnt sugar and cherry blend, but corporate suits always pull the plug on the good stuff."