ever heard the one about the priest, rabbi, and a minister walking into a bar? well, this is a story about the latin lecher, presumptuous bartender, and a southern belle. i first heard about paratii many moons ago, where a trip to naga revealed that evan was gone, but the bartender he left behind could provide all the cocktail gossip i needed. said bartender informed me that he would soon helm a new craft bar in ballard, featuring house-infused spirits, homebrewed beers, and brazilian fare. there was also some banter about how it was named after a fish, or was it a river, i cant remember. anywho, we decided to set sail for ballard and months later, arrived to a very hospitable crew, including owner sam, who allowed us to sample various house-made tinctures through rose-coloured glasses. and while i was catching up on all the latest in seattle’s skull & bones of spirits, my friend peachy was being seduced by the proprietor 20 years her senior. the drinks proved worthy of our voyage but sadly, the courtship was much more painful than a punchline.