Journal Entry No. 004 – “The Istanbul Incident”

Journal Entry No. 004 – “The Istanbul Incident”

Entry Date: Smeared by rain. Likely late spring. Possibly a Tuesday.

Istanbul is a city that exists in layers—ancient stone, neon light, and the smoke of a thousand kebabs. It smells like old secrets and new espresso. I came here chasing a whisper that a certain tea house in the Grand Bazaar served something… stronger than tea.

I should’ve realized then: anything worth drinking in this city is behind a door you’re not supposed to open.

The Bargain That Wasn’t

I found the place after walking past it four times, disguised as a rug merchant's supply closet. The man behind the counter had a mustache that predated the fall of the Ottoman Empire and eyes like broken glass.

“You want whiskey?” he asked.

I nodded.

“You have something old to trade?”

I offered a slightly sweat-stained map of the Scottish Highlands, a half-bottle of American rye, and a hotel key I no longer needed. He accepted the rye and tossed the rest into a small fire burning behind the counter.

“Fair,” he said.

A Taste of Trouble

He poured me a glass of Michter’s US*1 Single Barrel Straight Rye. Oddly American, I thought—but the bottle had Cyrillic writing and was at least a decade older than the label suggested. Possibly fake. Definitely fantastic.

I’d barely swallowed the first sip when the door opened and two men walked in—tall, suited, sweating under wool and suspicion.

“Where is it?” one asked.

The barkeep pointed at me.

Apparently, I’d just bought a bottle connected to a smuggling ring, a royal family, and a former backup singer for Prince.

I ran. Not quickly. But with conviction.

Today’s Whiskey: Michter’s US1 Single Barrel Straight Rye*

An American rye with old-world bite and modern polish.

  • Nose: Rich caramel, rye spice, and dark dried fruit

  • Taste: Warm vanilla, peppercorn, toffee, and a whisper of citrus

  • Finish: Long, bold, and just slightly criminal

  • Pairs best with: Bad intel, ancient alleyways, and making a run for it

Final Thought from the Idiot

They never did catch me. Maybe because I wasn’t actually the one they were after. Maybe because I bribed them with the rest of the bottle.

Either way, the lesson is simple: when in Istanbul, don’t trade whiskey for secrets unless you’re ready to drink and dash.

Until the next complication,
—W.I.

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