Ever since the early 90's when I first saw the wonderful and ever-witty movie Without You I'm Nothing by Sandra Bernhard I've always kinda had this inkling of drinking a Remy Martin whilst sitting in a dark bar listening to tearful jazz music. I was close to ordering that when I went to the Top of the Mark on Saturday night, but got nervous-- not knowing what a Remy Martin is, tastes like, whether they had it, you know, stupid fears. But just the thought of hearing Sandra talk about her "remy martaaaaan" makes me smile to this day. Maybe one day.