Three Fingers of Olympic Gold

JFaye--
I was sitting with your sister (the one on Cantura Street) last night watching a few minutes of Olympic skiing.
"All those lady skiers are flat-chested," I said; but JMax said they are men "That's men's skiing."
Oh.
I just kept just watching.

I said "Look, what are you drinking tonight? I'm having a drink."

She said "Yes! I need one!" (Exclamation marks appropriate here.)

Then she said "We have some good Scotches in there."

But I know we don't.

But we do have some decent enough American whiskeys, including a Wild Turkey that's all honeyed-up and sweet to the taste and good for the throat.

"How many fingers you want? I'm having three," says I.
"One," says your sister. "One to start."
"Okay. Whose finger?"
"Marty's!" said she.
Demure yet realistic; that's your sis.
Marty has those good sausage-sized digits. Perfect for measuring a Monday evening pour.