Kevin Books the Pineapple Suite
Kevin the Little Bartending Dog was no stranger to fabulous parties. Since expanding Amaro Bartending to the desert oasis of Palm Springs, he’d shaken martinis at sleek mid-century weddings, hosted mezcal tastings at luxury retreats, and once even served prickly pear spritzes to a surprise llama birthday party. But when the invitation came through for a White Lotus-themed private costume party in Palm Desert, even Kevin’s tail gave an excited wiggle.
The host was throwing the bash at her modernist estate tucked into the hillside above El Paseo. She wanted everything to feel like an episode of White Lotus—not just the Hawaiian and Sicilian vibes, but also the drama, the mystery, the decadence. “Think luxury, think chaos,” she told Kevin on the call. “And please—make sure the drinks tell a story.”
Kevin accepted the challenge with his usual paw-thumping enthusiasm.
When he arrived that afternoon to set up, the estate was already transformed. Staff in resort uniforms bustled around. Guests would soon be arriving in character: there’d be Tanyas in caftans, Armonds in disheveled linen, and at least three couples attempting to out-cool each other as Daphne and Cameron.
Kevin parked his mobile bar beside the pool, beneath a canopy of string lights and bougainvillea, and set up a menu that was pure White Lotus fantasy:
🌴 Tanya’s Last Word – Gin, chartreuse, maraschino liqueur, lime, and a single edible orchid. “A little sweet, a little bitter, a little unhinged.”
🍸 Armond’s Meltdown Martini – Vodka, dry vermouth, olive brine, with a splash of limoncello. Served slightly overfilled and garnished with drama.
🌊 Sicilian Sunset – Blood orange aperitivo, prosecco, and a drop of balsamic reduction for depth. Kevin called it “as pretty and complicated as a couple’s therapy session.”
🌺 Pineapple Problems (NA) – A non-alcoholic treat with pineapple juice, coconut water, ginger shrub, and a hint of tajín on the rim—perfect for any sober Tanyas in attendance.
The guests began to arrive just as the sun slipped behind the San Jacintos, casting golden shadows across the lawn. There were dramatic entrances. Someone brought a portable speaker playing the White Lotus theme on repeat. Someone else kept whispering “I think someone’s going to fake their death.”
Kevin, sporting a custom-made tropical print bowtie and tiny white collar, worked the crowd like a seasoned concierge. He wagged, he poured, he nodded knowingly as two guests gossiped about a third who had definitely arrived with the wrong date.
Things really took off when someone organized a dramatic reading of Tanya’s yacht monologue near the hot tub. Kevin responded by serving another round of Tanya’s Last Words, each with a tiny scroll attached that read “These gays—they’re trying to murder me!”
Later, as people danced barefoot under the stars and one Armond did a cannonball into the pool fully clothed, Kevin paused to survey the scene. He felt that spark of pride he always did when a party transformed—when strangers connected, laughter echoed, and the drinks were flowing just right.
As the night ended and the party melted into quiet, Kevin got a thank-you kiss on the head from Fallon and a promise: “You’re the only bartender I’m calling for Season Three.”
Kevin wagged his tail, packed up his bottles, and trotted into the desert night with the sound of laughter and soft waves of theme music following him out the gate.